


Interludes

by dormiensa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Light Angst, Marriage, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Violence, Not Epilogue Compliant, Politics, Post-Hogwarts, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2019-06-22 22:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 46
Words: 32,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15591648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormiensa/pseuds/dormiensa
Summary: A series of drabbles, snippets, vignettes, day-in-the-life-of snapshots in my corner of the dramione-verse. Mainly just excuses for fluff. In chronological order by writing date.





	1. Contentment

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this series of drabbles over a few years, and the first few are my earliest attempts at writing FF. I'm reposting them with minor tweaks to fix typos and other errors.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a quiet room in St. Mungo's...

Misty eyes gazed at the two tiny heads—one dark, one fair—as they suckled noiselessly. Hearing a small sound, he raised his eyes and saw her smirking.

"What?"

"They have huge appetites, just like their father."

He smirked back.

Two tiny gurgles announced the completion of the meal. "Here, let me take them." He took his daughter gently into the crook of his arm while she placed his son into his other. Two pairs of light grey eyes stared up at him, innocent, completely trusting. He caught his breath. A kiss on one forehead then the other solemnly promised unconditioned love and protection.

A small yawn from Lachlan Thomas received a loving, motherly caress on his cheek. "We've been selfishly enjoying them for two hours now. I think you should tell them."

"I suppose so." He handed his son back to her and reached for his wand. Ignoring a surprised gasp, he smiled down at Emma Clarisse and focussed his mind on the one charm that had always eluded him.

" _Vox expecto patronum!_ "

A large, silver lioness, with one cub between her teeth and another on her back, ambled regally through the door toward the anxious grandparents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i realize that "Tom" wouldn't be a top choice for hermione and draco (you can probably guess why i chose the names for the babies ;D). i'll just imagine that there's a deceased beloved grandfather that the kid's named after.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the war, Hermione and Draco finally have their first tête-à-tête.

The moon was bright that night, its rays dancing on the ripples of the lake. Though tired from the events earlier that day, Hermione sighed contentedly. Voldemort was finally defeated. The wizarding world would be in turmoil for some time, but there was renewed hope of building a better, stronger society now that the threat was gone. She was determined to make a contribution toward that end.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the tingling sensation of her pendant. _He was here._

Strong arms engulfed her. Warm lips, fierce, possessive, passionate, made her heart sing with joy.

Breathless. "Hello, My-own."

Tears sprang into her eyes; it had been too long since she last heard that nickname. "I missed you, Draco." She looked up at him, saw the traces of long-endured pain still etched along the lines of that beloved face. She caressed his cheek, hoping to smooth away the hurt.

His head turned, lips finding her palm. A broken sob escaped. "I'm so sorry... when you were captured at the Manse... I felt like such a useless git—"

"Hush." She gave him a reassuring kiss. "You couldn't've done anything to help without alerting Voldemort." (He winced.) "Draco, it's all right. You know that I would've been in a worse situation if Volde—the Dark Lord knew about us. And you weren't a useless git—you called Dobby, didn't you?" (He nodded.) "You see? Poor Dobby, he was so brave. I'll show you his final resting place; it's a beautiful view."

"Yes, I'd like that."

"I was so worried that the Dark Lord would take out his frustrations on you. But the pendant stayed silent, so I knew you were safe."

"And you! Not seeing you when Term started, not having any knowledge of where you were, how to find you, what dangers you were facing... it drove me mad! I checked the pendant every day to make sure. And that night, when you arrived at the Manse, it started vibrating like mad... I was so scared but angry that you'd risk your neck going there. And then the chaos—" A finger to his lips silenced him. 

"Hush. It's all in the past. We're not going to revisit that anymore. Promise?"

He nodded. "I—" He hesitated. 

She saw the doubt, the confusion in his eyes. "It's going to take time for them to accept you. You're going to have to suffer a lot of abuse and rejection, but I'll be there with you. We'll do this together. Change their minds, build a better world for all of us."

"I don't care about the abuse, I deserve it. But I don't know how long it will take to prove I'm not working against them. I don't want you to have to wait forever—"

"And if I said I was willing?" She smiled, looking into his eyes. 

He gasped. Warm lips, gentle, reassuring, loving, gave him a promise of happiness to come.


	3. Pacifier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is having a rough day at work...

"Circe's teat! If I have to read another piece of drivel like this, I'll hex someone!" Tugging his hair, Draco made a few more remarks on the parchment and tossed the stack aside. He marched toward his office door. "Send a Howler to Parkers, and tell him that if that's what he calls a proposal, I'm a Hippogriff!" 

His secretary scrambled out of her chair to obey. Still miffed, he stalked back into his office and eyed the stacks of parchment on his desk with distaste. He grimly wondered how such slipshod documents could have made it past the junior staff and mentally made a note to bring this up at the next monthly meeting.

The sound of bursting flames from the fireplace caught his attention.

"Draco, honey, are you busy?"

"My-own! Is everything all right?" Kneeling in front of the fire, Draco scanned his wife's face anxiously.

"Everything's fine! If you're not busy, could you just floo home for ten minutes?"

"Yes, of course."

A few minutes later, he brushed himself off before stepping out of the fire.

"DADA!"

He stood on the hearth, too stunned to move.

"Crookshanks got your tongue, dear?"

The babies started giggling.

Draco's face split into a huge grin as he rushed over to hug the twins to him, showering them with kisses.

"I take it you approve of their first word?"


	4. Ado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all about the truth with Hermione...

"We've done it! We've survived the odds, haven't we? And we made our own happy ending, Juliet."

She gasped. "You've read Shakespeare?"

He grinned. "Of course! He was a metamorphmagus sent to protect Ol' Queen Bess. His hobby of drabbling was considered proper reading for all us bratty pure-breds."

She sniggered. "So that's why his life was such a mystery! But surely he would've stuck out in court, alerted the enemies... oh my, Sir Francis!"

"Yes. Though the Muggles could never prove it, those that surmised the connection between Bacon and Shakespeare were bangon."

"Then Kit Marlowe—?"

"No, no. Poor Marlowe and Ol' Wills were best friends at Hogwarts, both sent to protect the Queen. Pity he came to a sticky end at that tavern."

"So, the enemy found him."

"Yes."

She pondered. "So, the rivalry between the Montagues and the Capulets..."

"Was based on a true story between a Slytherin and Gryffindor that Shakespeare knew in school. They eloped and tried to live as Muggles, but their families eventually found them and separated them. The death scene in the play is pretty much what happened in the end."

Chocolate-brown eyes stare deeply into his grey ones. "Well, we've succeeded where they failed. And we have the blessings of the entire wizarding community, too."

He smiled and kissed her. "Are you ready for bed now, Mrs. Malfoy?"


	5. Outmanoeuvred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The key to a successful marriage lies in three little words: Yes, my dear.

"No way!"

"Buggered if I will!"

"Are you mad?!"

The women sighed in exasperation. Hermione scolded, "You promised the children they could have a sleepover! This is the most logical arrangement!"

The men protested even louder.

"I never agreed to this!"

"Logic be damned! You're talking three whole days!"

"Mental!"

"Fine!" Hermione retorted, and with a glint in her eye, she glared at her stubborn husband. "If you upset the children, _Draco Malfoy_ , you'll wake up one morning to a house redecorated in orange and purple and with clothes and hair to match!"

Draco was stunned, speechless.

"And you, Harry James Potter, can either cook your own meals for a week or starve!"

"But, Ginny—"

"Don't you 'Ginny' me!"

Harry huffed but did not venture a reply.

Ron was still very red-faced, but he eyed his wife nervously. She smiled and calmly said, "Spiders in your bed, in your soup, in your shoes, in your pockets..." He took three steps back and stared at Susan in horror.

A moment of tense silence followed.

" _Fine!_ Don't ever say that Malfoys are ungracious and would break their word to their own flesh-and-blood!"

"I'm only doing this for the kids! And don't think that I'm afraid of starving!"

"That was completely uncalled for! Spiders! _Spiders!_ Even Fred and George never hit that low!"

The men huffily retreated into the Potters' tent to look after sleeping arrangements. The women smiled at each other and went off to prepare lunch for the children.


	6. Sectumsempra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione visits Draco in the hospital wing after the near-fatal accident.

Hermione carefully pulled back the partition curtain and crept inside. She laid a bowl on top of the small bedside table and scanned his face anxiously, looking for any sign of pain or discomfort. A frown still marred his brow, but Draco's chest heaved with a slow, regular rhythm. Hastily wiping her tears, she inched closer. Her hand hovered, hesitant, over him.

As if sensing a presence, he stirred. She stepped back quickly but couldn't completely stifle a small gasp. Grey eyes blinked open, and he turned his head sharply toward the noise. 

Seeing who it was, he sneered. "So, still think hero-boy is all great and mighty? Despise him as much as I do? I didn't think he would dabble into the Dark Arts like that; too noble to use such filthy magic, or so I assumed."

Fresh tears sprang into her eyes. "Oh, Draco, he didn't mean—he found this stupid spell in... one of the books he read! He would never have tried it if he knew—"

"Still sticking up for him, I see! Such loyalty. Must be a Gryffindor thing, to be so blind to the faults of others. I really should be honoured that Potter chose to test an unknown hex on me, but, somehow I'm not only ungrateful, I FEEL LIKE COMMITTING BLOODY MURDER!" 

Draco collapsed onto his pillow, the pain from his outburst leaving him gasping for breath. Hermione stepped closer once more and stretched out her hand. He slapped it away.

"Your pity is most touching, _Granger_ , but don't waste it on me.”

“Please, Draco, when he told me what happened, I was so mad I wanted to wring his neck, but he was beating himself up so badly over it—he really isn’t a spiteful person—”

“Not like me, you mean? No, of course not. Only slimy Slytherins could be as—”

“That’s not what I meant! You _know_ that, Draco. I know you’re understandably upset—"

“Upset? Why would I be upset? I’m just the git who was stupid enough to be bewitched by your innocent eyes!”

Hermione angrily wiped her tears. "That's not fair, Draco," she said quietly.

" _Fair?_ I'll tell you what's not fair! Potter's rotten luck! He poses a threat to the Dark Lord, but he survives the attack. He breaks school rules, and he has Dumbledore to bail him out and _award_ him for his cheek! He is a mediocre student, but he has friends like you to save his butt! What have I ever done to the Dark Lord to have him threaten my life and my family? Why do I have to accomplish the impossible task of—" He clamped his mouth tightly, silently cursing himself for almost letting slip his secret mission and activating the curse that Lord Voldemort had placed on him to prevent him from seeking aid.

"Draco, I've asked you time and time again to let me help you! Please, trust me!"

"Trust you? How do you propose to help me? Look up some spell in a book in the Restricted Section? Trust _me_ , if an answer can be found in some book, I wouldn't be in this mess! You're not the only bright student in the school!" 

He saw the stunned look on her face, as if he'd slapped her. He turned his head away, refusing to acknowledge the pain he was inflicting. He heard her sob and then a swish of the curtains. She was gone.

Torn between the desire and dread of her returning footsteps, he did not turn his head for a long while. When he realized that she was not coming back, he sighed and turned to stare at the curtains. It was only then that he noticed the bowl on the bedside table.

His eyes glinted and the corners of his mouth twitched. She remembered. _I only told her once that this is my favourite soup, and she remembered._

Hating himself, he struggled into a sitting position and reached for the steaming bowl.


	7. Epitaph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In loving memory...

A middle-aged lady placed a white rose at the foot of the tombstone and stood back. The newly engraved lettering glinted in the mid-morning light. As she wiped away her tears, she felt a pair of strong hands grasp her shoulders into a protective embrace.

"The suffering's finally over for him," she said softly. She felt his head nod in agreement. "I miss him so much."

"I know, dear, but he hasn't been the same since Mum died, and the illness was just prolonging the pain."

"Well, they're together again."

"Yes."

They stood side-by-side, momentarily lost in memories of days and years past.

Breaking the silence, he murmured, "You know, I didn't understand why Mum insisted on that epitaph, but now that I know his, it makes sense."

"But it does make us a couple of very weird half-breeds, doesn't it?"

They smiled at each other then turned their heads to stare thoughtfully at the double-plotted tombstone. The right side was engraved,

_Hermione Jean Granger-Malfoy  
(1979-2140)  
Mudblood_

and to the left,

_Draco Malfoy  
(1980-2145)  
Blood traitor_

and near the foot of the tombstone, centered,

_Proud of it._


	8. Bygones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance encounter buries old rivalries...

It was a cool, foggy morning. The mist twirled and lingered, shrouding the graveyard under a veil of silver. A young man stood in quiet contemplation in front of a simple tombstone. His reverie was interrupted by the arrival of another, who placed a small bouquet of flowers at the foot of the tombstone, next to his own.

"Fancy meeting you here, Potter."

"Hello, Malfoy."

"I didn't think Snape counted among your favourite people."

"He saved my life during the war, like your mother did."

Draco gave Harry a startled glance. Memories of The Fall flooded his mind. Harry had approached the Malfoys in the Great Hall after The Defeat and thanked Mrs. Malfoy for saving his life. She had tearfully thanked Harry in return for saving Draco. Draco then vaguely recalled Hermione mentioning that Snape had given Harry the means of defeating Voldemort, but she had never provided details. He made a mental note to ask her.

Coming back to the present, Draco said, in a softer tone, "I wondered who brought the flowers last year. You know, though I'd known Snape for years, I never knew his favourite flower was the white lily."

"I actually don't know. I just guessed he would like them."

"Ah. Well, um, how are Ginny and the children?"

"Well, thanks. James is a handful. He seems to take delight in being a flesh-and-blood Peeves and tormenting his brother."

"Takes after his old man, then."

"Save your scorn, Malfoy. Given Hermione's stubbornness and your, er, aggressive tendencies, Lachlan and Emma won't grow up to be docile people."

"My children are simply playful, as all normal children should be, Potter."

Harry snorted. "I heard they almost gave you a heart attack when you came home and found them dancing on the ceiling."

Draco gave a haughty sniff but couldn't completely suppress a small shudder. Finding one's toddlers chasing one another around the chandelier would give even a casual passer-by nightmares, never mind a doting father.

"So, Malfoy, I hear you're helping the Ministry revise the Potions spellbooks for Hogwarts." (Draco nodded.) "Er, if you're not busy, would you mind coming back with me? I have something of Snape's that may be of use."

"Certainly, Potter. Shall we?"

*****

Hermione heard his familiar tread and greeted him with a kiss. She looked up curiously. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"You usually come back so burdened with sorrow and guilt that it takes an entire afternoon of hugging, kissing, and playing with the children to calm you. You only look this peaceful, well, when you're asleep."

"Have you been watching me sleep, love?"

"Only when your snoring wakes me up," she teased. "Now, are you going to tell me what happened or must I drag the truth from you?"

"Mercy, Madam Granger-Malfoy. This is not the Wizengamot." Draco shuddered as flashbacks of his trial blinded him. Forcing them to the back of his mind, he replied, "I saw Potter at the grave, and he invited me home. He... he gave me some of his memories... of him reading through one of Snape's old Potions books, said he thought they'd be useful for my revisions." He paused as he recalled the scribbled notes. "Snape really was a brilliant potion maker—that clockwise turn! It's no wonder Potter became such a genius in Sixth. I asked if he still had the book, but he said he misplaced it. Then, he changed the subject. Do you know what happened to the book?"

"It was destroyed with the fire in the Room of Requirement before The Fall."

"The Fiendfyre." Draco frowned. "But why didn't he just say that?"

"Well, that probably brought back memories of why the book ended up in the Room to begin with. He—the curse that gave you that scar was... invented by Snape. Harry found it in that book." Hermione scanned his face anxiously.

A flash of pain darkened his expression, but it was replaced by a look of respect. He sighed. "Bloody noble Potter. He apologized for giving me the bloody thing when I left. I wondered what triggered it. Told him not to mention it again."

Hermione smiled and kissed him gently. "Does this mean you don't hate him anymore?"

"You know I stopped hating him years ago. If it wasn't for his testimony, I'd be in Azkaban right now. But just because I don't want to hex him every time we meet doesn't make us best mates."

"I wouldn't dream of asking that of you. I'm just glad that you'll be able to talk to him about other things besides the weather and Quidditch."

"We talk about you, too."

"I knew you were never modest when it came to flaunting your accomplishments, but I didn't think your boasting would extend to my abilities as well."

"Shameless!"

"It rubs off after living with a prat for so long."

"Having regrets, My-own? You'd rather have red-haired children? Ow!" He rubbed his shoulder. "Well, better than that slap you gave me in Third. Have you grown so fond of me now that you can't bear to abuse me as you were wont in school?"

"Would you like to become re-acquainted with my Canary Hex?" she asked sweetly. He blanched. "I didn't think so."

"Ahem, well, I meant to ask you if you knew why Potter brought white lilies to Snape's grave. He said he didn't know if Snape liked them but seemed to think he did. Why is that?"

"Snape and Harry's mother, Lily, used to be friends." She proceeded to give him a brief account of what Harry had discovered about the pair while sifting through Snape's memories.

"You told me about the Horcruxes, of course, but I always assumed that Potter learned everything from Dumbledore and you."

Draco remained silent for some time.

Then, he tightened his embrace, kissed her possessively, and said into her hair, "I'm glad you didn't fall in love with Potter or Weasley. I think I'd rather Voldemort murdered me than suffer Snape's fate."

Hermione smiled.


	9. Lucius (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione are a couple. Will Lucius ever approve?

Following Harry Potter’s defeat of Lord Voldemort, the remaining Death Eaters were rounded-up by the Ministry and tried for war crimes committed during both risings of the Dark Lord.

Narcissa Malfoy was not charged both because Harry testified that she had saved his life during the battle and the fact that she had never participated in the activities of the Death Eaters.

Draco was only sentenced to one year of house arrest. He was found innocent for the murder of Dumbledore—again, through Harry’s testimony—and there was lack of evidence that he had ever performed an Unforgivable during his brief stint as a Death Eater.

Lucius Malfoy, however, was sentenced to ten years of imprisonment for his offenses, and a part of the Malfoy fortune was seized by the Ministry, to be used for the rebuilding of the wizarding world. Hermione Granger made discreet arrangements to ensure that he was put into isolation and did not suffer mistreatment while incarcerated.

***

It became clear by his fifth year of imprisonment that Lucius was a broken man; therefore, the Wizengamot approved Narcissa’s appeal that he be released and placed under house arrest for the remainder of his sentence. Charms and frequent visits by Aurors to Malfoy Manor were put into place.

A Healer was later brought in to treat for severe depression, though to little effect.

When he could not be roused out of bed one morning, he was transferred to a private room in St. Mungo’s; the Healers said he had withdrawn completely and his stay would be indefinite.

It was at this point that Hermione started her secret visits.

***

The visits began with a simple introduction and revelation—Hermione knew that Draco had not yet informed his austere parent of their relationship and hoped that the shock of this news would trigger a response from the older Malfoy.

Silence.

Undeterred, she employed a variety of verbal tactics over the course of subsequent visits: news of Draco’s involvement in the building of an improved magical society, the changes wrought both within and without the new Ministry, her own personal beliefs, Harry’s Auror career, idle social gossip reported in the _Daily Prophet_ , or the discussions over afternoon tea with Narcissa. The awkwardness of talking to a seemingly-Petrified person wore off as time passed, and Hermione became quite comfortable in her monologues.

***

At her insistence, Lucius was present at her quiet Bonding Ceremony with Draco, surrounded by only immediate family and very close friends. Draco was both grateful and bemused.

She revealed to him that night that she had been a frequent visitor of Lucius and was rewarded with an outpour of emotion.

***

“Hello, Mr. Malfoy. How are you feeling today? I apologize for the lapse in time since my last visit. Things have gotten a bit hectic. And Draco’s been fussing like a mother hen—amusing, really, but annoying to be on the receiving end of it. I finally managed to convince him to go into the office for a half-day to make sure things are in order. This is my first opportunity to stretch my legs after being stuck in a bed for these past few days." Hermione leaned forward in the bedside chair. "I want to introduce you to your grandchildren. We’ve decided on the names Lachlan Thomas and Emma Clarisse. Won’t you say ‘Hello’ to your Grandpa Lucius, my darlings?”

The babies gurgled. Hermione chuckled, bending down to kiss them tenderly. She turned her attention back to Lucius and reported on the uneventful birthing, the Healers’ confirmation that the babies were thriving, Draco’s worship of the twins, the Patronus, and all the new discoveries Lachlan and Emma were making of their new environment. She was interrupted by Lachlan’s squirming and demanding for attention.

“Hush, darling, let Mummy finish talking to Grandpa, and then we’ll go back for a snack and your nap.”

He persisted in his fussing and soon let out a wail of annoyance.

He was suddenly taken from his mother’s embrace.

“What is the matter, my little man? It’s all right! We’ll get nanny to fix you up some warm milk. Would that please you? There now, little one, no more crying. Ah, a good, strong grip! That’s my boy!”

Hermione was so stunned by the sudden turn of events that she could only stare as Lucius comforted his grandson.

After Lachlan took hold of his grandfather’s finger, a beaming Lucius looked up at her. “Look, Narcissa, love, he—” Lucius blinked in confusion at finding a pair of brown eyes staring back at him. When realization finally dawned, his eyes widened, and he looked down at the babe in his arms, noting for the first time the dark curls on the tiny head. Two pairs of grey eyes stared at one another in awed silence.

Lucius looked up again. “Thank you… Hermione.”

She managed a weak smile. “It’s good to see you in an alert state again, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Please, call me Lucius.”

Her smile broadened. “Would you like to hold Emma now?”

“Please. Oh no, no need to disturb Lachlan. I’ll manage just fine. Hello, Emma. I’m your Grandpa Lucius.”

The door opened.

“Hello, My-own, I thought I’d find you here...” Draco gasped at the scene that greeted him. Disbelieving, he stood in the doorway, gaping.

“Do come in, son.”

When Draco did not respond or move, Hermione got up and walked toward him. “Looking for us, dear?”

Draco came out of his stasis. “Y-yes. Assistant Healer Bones said you wanted to walk around. I looked all over the maternity ward. Then, I figured to come here. Er, how are you, F-father? It’s good to see you awake.”

“Yes, I find this infinitely preferable to unconsciousness, though I must admit my back still feels a bit sore.”

“Er, yes, Sir. Walking will help that, I'm sure.”

Hermione couldn’t resist a small giggle. She pushed Draco toward the chair she had just vacated. “Now, you two just stay put and look after the babies while I tell Healer Callahan that Mr. M—Lucius has recovered.”

***

After his release from St. Mungo's, Lucius continued to live a reclusive life, refusing to see anyone outside of his immediate family. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're probably wondering why I didn't give Lucius life imprisonment -- I think that with Lucius, the appeal of Voldemort was always about power. He went along with others like Bellatrix about the pure-blood stuff because it was acceptable/popular, but I think he'd've left most of the murdering to the others. His victims suffered torture and cruelty, yes, but he probably viewed most of the wizarding world as inferior anyway, so his hands wouldn't've been as sullied by the more violent crimes.
> 
> Hermione definitely has a Florence Nightingale complex, so she would not have limited her efforts to only saving Draco. ;)


	10. Lucius (Part 2)

"They're beautiful, son."

"Yes, they are, aren't they? You should have seen them when they were first born: red, wrinkled, and wailing. But one look at them in my arms... I’ve never felt so proud."

"Well, they certainly have every reason to feel proud of you." Lucius looked up, pain etching deep lines in his still-haggard face. "Draco, I'm sorry. I—"

"Father, stop. You must stop all this guilt and recrimination. Your beliefs were instilled in you before you were old enough to think for yourself. Grandfather, the whole family, all the other pure-blood families, everyone believed the same things, followed the same misguided principles. We had no reason to think we were wrong. The Dark Lord simply used our beliefs to further his ascent to power."

"I was blinded by lust for that power. I knew... I knew the second time that I had chosen the wrong leader. But I was too much of a coward to stand up to him. You and your mother were left to his mercy because of my cowardice. I never meant for you to—"

"Father, please listen: it's not your fault. I know, I know that you would always put Mother and me before everything else. The Dark Lord could threaten you because he knew that. I have never blamed you for what has happened. You must try to stop blaming yourself. Let this unsatisfactory past be buried with the Dark Lord. You have already paid your debt with your loss of... self. You've awoken from the nightmare, and now you must enjoy your second chance at life."

Lucius shook his head in bewilderment. "To think, it took a Muggle-born witch to make us see, to understand who the truly inferior breed is, how petty and pitiful... I'm glad my teachings haven't caused irrevocable damage."

"Father—"

"She is a remarkable woman. Extraordinary. She has healed you, she has freed you from the shackles of your conditioning. I know: your words to me were also spoken to you. I'm so proud of you for having the courage to go against generations of mistaken pride. I'm told your tongue-lashing left the Malfoy Inquisition quite speechless." Lucius smiled at Draco's astonishment. "I may have been incapacitated, but I have kept abreast of all your achievements. Your mother told me how you stood up for Hermione. How you were able to not only silence your great-grandfather, a feat I have never accomplished, but make the Cabal accept and respect her. Who would have guessed that portraits could achieve personal growth."

Draco smirked but found himself unable to speak.

"Son, promise me you will do everything in your power to repay her for bringing true prestige to the Malfoy name."

"I will. I promise."

Lucius reached out and grasped the back of Draco's head, pulling him into an embrace. A startled Draco recovered and relaxed against his father's shoulder. In a flash, Draco remembered. Remembered his first time on a broom. Remembered the shout of exhilaration. Remembered the tumble. Remembered how Lucius had screamed and gathered him into a tight hug. Remembered the tender words of comfort spoken by the shaking voice. Remembered the warmth.

And for the first time in over twenty years, Draco wept in his father's embrace.


	11. Lucius (Part 3)

"Hermione! Please, come in." Lucius laid aside the book in his hand and smiled at his daughter-in-law. "Please, sit down."

She walked hesitantly into the study and sat in the armchair across from him. "How are you feeling today, Lucius?"

"Very well, thank you. The children down for their nap?"

"Yes. They were very restless last night, but they are slowly getting into a routine."

"Ah, yes. I believe it took Draco several weeks to adjust to sleeping when the rest of the household slept. And in spite of hiring a full-time nanny, Narcissa still fussed and worried over him. I understand that you have no wish to have one, but if things do become overwhelming, please do consider the nanny. You do, after all, have two of them."

"I will. Their well-being will always take precedence to my stubbornness."

"Your 'stubbornness', as you call it, has done nothing but good for this family, so I wouldn't be too hasty in dismissing it."

Hermione blushed. "That—that's very kind of you to say, Lucius, but really—"

"Please, Hermione. You deserve much more thanks than I can ever express, but if you'll allow, I will make a poor attempt." He paused to gain her acquiescence. She smiled awkwardly but did not speak. "I'm a proud man, as you're well aware. My family name and reputation have always been of the utmost importance. To my shame, I have allowed my family to come to harm because I did not see the folly of my actions. I have tortured and humiliated you, your friends, all those I considered your kind. I dare not ask your forgiveness, but I hope you will permit me to earn it."

"Lucius, we have both been guilty of prejudice and being overly judgmental. There is nothing to forgive—you have welcomed me into your family and accepted me. Please, let the past be. We have both been given the chance to start afresh."

"If you truly have one fault, it is that you are too generous, my dear. I know you will pardon me if I cannot but wallow in my self-pity for a while, but I give you my word that I will not disappoint you."

"A Malfoy's word is as good as his bond. I will hold you to it." She smirked and saw his eyes widen in surprise and recognition—her imitation of her husband's arrogant grin always disconcerted Draco. "If you'll excuse me, Lucius, I promised Narcissa that I would learn to knit some hats for the children. Will you be needing anything?"

She stood as he shook his head and walked quietly out.


	12. Table-turning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco gets a glimpse of yet another side of Hermione.

"So, how was it?"

"Perfectly according to plan! He didn't suspect a thing!" She giggled. "You should have seen the look on his face when he stepped into that room and saw the screaming women. Ginny and I just managed to lock him in and spell the doors not to open for the next two hours. I'll be getting the cold-shoulder at work for at least a week, but it was for charity, so worth the risk."

"I love it when you unleash your inner Slytherin." He smirked. It faltered a bit when she mirrored it.

A moment later, Draco found himself flat on his back on the bed, his hands and feet bound to the corresponding bedposts. Naked.

She straddled him, and he felt her feathery kisses and warm caresses up and down his body. He moaned.

Before locking lips with him, Hermione whispered, "I see your brave little Gryffindor has come up to play..."


	13. Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco have a cozy chat after work.

Draco found his wife curled up on the sofa, fast asleep, when he came home from work. Smiling, he gently moved her into a position to allow him to carry her to bed.

She awoke and gave him a sleepy smile. "Oh good, you're home. I must've dozed off waiting for you."

Draco manoeuvered them so that she was cuddled on his lap. "Are you all right? I got your owl—what did the Healer say?"

"Oh, Susan was on duty, so she gave me a thorough check-up. She says I'm fine; gave me a potion to ease the symptoms. She told me to come home and rest, so I Owled the Ministry that I was taking the rest of the day off."

"Maybe you should just take the rest of the week off. What did Susan say was causing the symptoms?"

"Oh... just a lot of stress."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"She taught me an interesting diagnosing incantation as well." Summoning her wand, Hermione invoked the spell and caused a myriad of bright fireworks to sparkle around the room.

"That's... very pretty, love. Seeing as she works in Maternity, the blue and pink are certainly the most obviously popular colours, though the children are a bit young to really appreciate the intricacies of so many different types of fireworks." When she didn't respond, he asked, "Is there something more to the spell?"

"You tell me: you're the one immersed in ancient texts all day."

"Well, it's a new spell, that's for sure. Standard Latin. Whoever created it was no scholar, though. Fully-functional spell, of course, but lacks lyricism—give me an old spell, even an outmoded one, any day. Anyway, let's see... er, could you repeat it, love? Hmm... reveal... nature, no essence... power potential..." He mumbled and muttered a while longer, trying to break down the spell into its components. "I don't understand, what does Susan use the spell for? Surely she can't be so bored as to want to measure the amount of magic being generated in the ward nursery, though that's what the spell seems to be most useful for."

"Well, she did say that the spell only works on clients and only over an interval of several months."

"Well, it's obvious who the clients are. So... she can't use the spell..." Draco's train of thought dwindled, and his eyes widened in surprise. "My-own, are—are you—?!"

Hermione responded with a radiant smile and a twinkle in her eye, "Are you pleased?"

Draco gave his reply in his kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not writing out the spell—there are many things beyond my capability, Latin being one of them. I figured that if the FF wizarding world could have contraception charms, libido-enhancing charms, and the like, it should also have a sophisticated "pregnancy test" that doesn't just indicate positive/negative but also sex and magical ability. In this case, the more fireworks and greater variety, the more potential magical ability.


	14. Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How it all began...

She was here again, in this dark, secluded nook along the empty corridor. Trying, once again, to stifle angry sobs.

Normally, the library was her place of sanctuary, but the last time she had sought refuge in a quiet corner, Madam Pince's sharp ears had found her almost immediately. Madam Pince may be a despot when it came to books and the running of the library, but she had a kind heart, and Hermione had always been one of her favourite students. When pressed for the reason for her tears, Hermione had lied and said her essay for Potions was causing her a lot of stress. She had gratefully but firmly declined Madam's offer to fetch a Calming Draught from Madam Pomfrey, hastily dried her tears, and said she was all right, soon after leaving the library. She had found this corner by chance while patrolling the halls one night and had thereafter claimed it for the needed reprieve.

 _He is such a git! I don't know why I even bother sometimes._ She berated herself every time her attempts to comfort him were rebuffed by a cold stare, a harsh word, an angry command to leave him alone.

 _Because you are stubborn, just like your father,_ her mother's unbidden voice teased her. Hermione couldn't help a watery chuckle. _Well, if Dad's stubborn, you're even more stubborn, Mum._ Her father was prone to fits of the sullens and sudden outbursts of anger, and her mother always managed to get him in a calmer, happier frame of mind precisely because she was tenacious, never allowing him to remain in such a state for long. _I should ask Mum how she manages not to be fazed,_ Hermione thought. She had never found her mother wallowing in self-pity like she was doing now. Then again, her Mum didn't have to put up with an arrogant git like Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy. She was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Ever since that time she had found him sobbing in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and was able to get past his defences to offer comfort, she had be unable to stop from trying again and again when she found him in that vulnerable state. She had also escaped into the bathroom for a good cry that time, after learning about Ron's poisoning, and they had been companions in misery.

***

Malfoys were trained to never succumb to such a weakness as showing vulnerability in front of others and especially to never accept their compassion because it gave them power over one. He cursed himself. Did she gloat about this in the privacy of her room? He shuddered at the thought. But then he recalled that look of hurt in her eyes whenever he pushed her away. _She only pities you. Those silly Gryffindors are always so foolishly sentimental about such useless "virtues" like loyalty and kindness and all such rubbish._ He calmed at the thought, for it saved him from regret, from the desire to rest his head on her shoulder and be petted... _Stop it! What would Father say if he saw you like this!_ But instead of the usual fear that such reprimands inspired, his heart ached, knowing the total control the Dark Lord had over his parents.

_I need a walk, clear my head, think of another plan. If only that blasted Cabinet were fixed._

***

_Why won't he let me help him? 'I've got things figured out. Stop being such a busybody!'_ Right, if that were true, why was Voldermort still threatening him with his parents' lives? _He's going get seriously hurt one of these days trying to complete whatever "mission" he was given._ At that thought, Hermione sobbed again. _I don't know why I even care what happens to him._ But deep down, she knew, even if she wouldn't admit it. She had glimpsed that small part of the true Draco Malfoy that didn't make him a complete arse. If only he wouldn't shut her out. _Boys, and especially Slytherin boys, always having to prove that they are invincible. Even Harry and Ron, killing themselves over a silly game of Quidditch. How would they be able to handle eventually facing Voldemort and his Death Eaters?_ That inevitability brought on another flood of tears.

The air felt warmer all of a sudden. Calming down, she realized she was enveloped by a strong pair of arms and being gently rocked. She looked up to see who it was and only had a glimpse of a pair of gray eyes before she felt soft lips cover hers.

All the words he didn't have the courage to tell her, all the emotions he locked up inside—his fears, his pain, his longing, his need for comfort, his desire for her compassion—he poured into his kiss.

With a sob of relief, she responded in kind.


	15. Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A follow-up to _Sectumsempra_.

The dimly-lit hallway seemed eerily silent tonight. Or perhaps her loneliness amplified the emptiness: the only sound heard were her firm if weary footsteps. As she approached the small alcove that had been her sanctuary, her thoughts turned once again to Draco Malfoy. She was still hurting from their conversation in the hospital wing a week ago. He was back on his feet now, but she had been avoiding him. The pain was too acute, and she wondered why, of all people to lose her heart to, she had to choose the snarkiest bastard of all, the Prince Prat himself. 

_Love isn't blind, it's mental._

She felt someone grab her roughly, but before she could scream, she was stifled by lips crushing onto hers and arms pinning her against a hard, warm body. She struggled and writhed, but the arms only tightened. 

_You bastard! Let me go, Draco Malfoy! I'm tired of your games! I'm tired of dealing with your hot-and-cold attitude!_ she wanted to scream. But the force of his kiss, his desperate need for forgiveness soon dissipated her outrage, and she responded with tenderness, reassurance, yearning.

He released her lips and peppered her face with tiny kisses. Calming down from his onslaught, she noticed that he was trembling. Grabbing her in a fierce hug, he mumbled into her hair a broken, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... Please, I can't lose you _too_." 

She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, stroking his hair. He trembled even more violently and sank to his knees, his arms now around her waist, his face buried into her abdomen. She continued to soothe him, stroking his hair, rubbing his back. 

When she finally calmed him down, they sat with her snuggled in his arms. She removed the simple pendant from around her neck, made a duplicate, and muttered a few spells on both. She handed one to him. "I've magicked this so that it works like a Protean Charm. Whenever you're in life-threatening trouble or a lot of pain, mine will turn warm. If you need to send a message to me, just write it out with your wand."

"Will it turn warm if you're in danger?"

"Yes."

He rolled up his right-arm sleeve and spelled the pendant into a re'em tattoo that embedded into the soft flesh of his upper arm. She gasped then gently kissed the now-reddened skin. Embarrassed, he pulled down his sleeve and wrapped his arms around her once more. "You should get back to the dorm and get some sleep."

"Ten more minutes." She snuggled closer.

Several hours later, he woke to see the sun peaking out from behind the clouds. He gently shook her awake, but she didn't budge. He bent down to kiss her and finally felt her regain consciousness. "It's dawn, you'd better go and freshen up. They'll be up and about soon." She gave him a quick kiss good-bye and walked groggily toward the Tower.

He watched her until she was out of sight.


	16. Blessing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A friend in need is a friend indeed.

The Castle would need extensive repair. But in spite of the damage, the sheer familiarity of it was a comfort. Hermione looked about wistfully; she had really missed walking its halls these past several months. Of course, she had very little time to even think much about school and classes, but during those brief, quiet moments...

"'Mione, can we talk a moment?"

"Oh, hi Ron. Of course we can talk. What did you want to discuss?"

"Well, er, it's... it's about Malfoy." (She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him fearfully.) "No, wait, I'm not going to yell at you or hex him—though he does deserve that. I just want to know what exactly is going on between the two of you."

"How—how did you find out?"

"Well, after we escaped from the Room of Requirement, before we joined in the fight, I saw you say something to him while he was still holding onto Crabbe's body. And, just now, I saw the way he stared at you in the Great Hall. Then, I remembered how mad you were after I found you and Harry again in that forest. You were mad at both me and Malfoy for running out on you, weren't you?" When she didn't respond, he continued, "Listen, I know we'd agreed before we went to hunt the Horcruxes that we deal better as friends, but I'm still working things out about my feelings because they've been all over the place. I'm not asking you to choose or anything, but I just want you to know that you can always come to me if.. if there's trouble."

She hugged him tightly. "Thank you, Ron. I'll... always have feelings for you that are more than that between close friends... I just, with Draco, please don't be, I don't want to hurt you—"

"It's all right. I told you, I'm not looking for us to get back together. I know I'm not making much sense, but the thought of you and him, well, it's like when I found out about Ginny and Dean. I just don't want you to be hurt. Promise me you'll tell me if he's being a git? He won't get away with anything—the Weasley Warriors are scarier than that stupid Inquisitorial Squad he was part of in Fifth." That got a reluctant chuckle. "Actually, come to think of it, we'd better make sure he doesn't have plans to become the future Minister for Magic. He doesn't really handle power that well."

She frowned. "Yes, he certainly lets it get to his head. I'll have to talk with him about that. He does want to salvage the family name—he's too proud of his heritage not to—but what he plans to do, I don't yet know."

"He'll have you to keep him in check, anyhow. You've definitely set yourself the biggest challenge, 'Mione. It used to be Harry and me, with homework and getting out of trouble and fighting Voldemort. But if there's anyone who can change Malfoy into a decent human being, it's you."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. I can't tell you how relieved I feel. With all that's been happening, I never thought about any future with Draco, but I've always dreaded how you and Harry would react if you ever found out that I even had feelings for him that weren't disgust or anger."

"Well, the threat of having Voldemort rule over all of us does tend to make things like old school rivalries seem rather paltry. And who knows, maybe you'll start a trend with this interhouse unity. Bet even Dumbledore never expected any of us to take his words so literally. Gryffindor and Slytherin: boggles the mind. Hey, what do you say we both be role models? What do you think, should I hook up with a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff?"

Giggle. "Oh, Ron! What about that Romilda Vane that you had the brief crush on?"

"Merlin, no! Too devious—how will I know she won't put me under the Imperius when I'm not looking? And if we ever argue, I may never wake up the next morning because she poisoned the food!"

"Well, you deserve someone who is kind, loyal, witty, and can take good care of you and the home. Someone like Mrs. Weasley. If not a Gryffindor, then probably someone in Hufflepuff. They're more dependable."

"You always were the brains. All right then, I'll have to try my luck."

"And I'll give you the same promise you gave me: whoever she is, if she hurts you, she'll live to regret it."

"Wow, between your Canary Hex and Ginny's Bat Bogey one, I may have to remain a bachelor like Charlie!"

"Well, then, you'll just have to choose your future wife wisely."

"I'll try my best. We'd better get back to the common-room—the family's staying for the night. That's one of the reasons I came to find you."

"You go on ahead. I just want to go out for some fresh air first."

"And spend a quiet moment with Malfoy. You don't have to deny it. He was going to get up and follow you when you left the Great Hall, but I just beat him to it. Don't go into the Forbidden Forest; the Lake would be better."

Ron sauntered off toward the stairs, leaving behind a bemused Hermione. Before she reached the front doors, she heard him call her from the top of the stairs. "I bet my choice in my future wife will be wiser than yours in future husband!" He laughed and ran out or range of any hex she could have given.

***

"Hermione, can I talk to you a moment?"

"Of course, Harry. Should we go outside? You know Madam Pince is still very disapproving of talking in the library. And what with things being as disorganized as it is right now, she's being even more strict."

When they had left the library, Hermione looked expectantly at Harry. He seemed unsure of what to say and tugged at his unruly hair distractedly.

"Is something the matter, Harry?"

"No, no, everything's fine. Well, relatively. Listen, I don't want to sound like an overprotective brother, but I just want to let you know I'm all right with you and Malfoy... being together, so you don't have to hide around me. Ron, well, Ron will probably need a bit more time to adjust to the idea, but he'll come 'round. As long as you're happy."

Hermione was momentarily speechless. Recovering from her surprise, she replied, "Actually, Harry, Ron already knows. He told me last night he put two-and-two together. He obviously didn't tell you, though. How did you know?"

"Well, last night, I asked Ginny if we could take a walk outside, just to get away from the noise and people, and we accidentally saw the two of you by the Lake. Ginny pulled me away and began convincing me not to be upset, said she suspected ever since the middle of Sixth, when she noticed you were crying a lot for no known reason. She said she saw the two of you together on occasion and that you seemed really chummy. I felt a bit numb throughout all that, but I wasn't upset. And I've been mulling over it all last night. It's going to take me some time to just adjust to it, and you know Malfoy and I haven't exactly been on friendly terms, but I agree with Ginny that if you could find something in him that's worth caring about, then he deserves a second chance."

"Thank you, Harry! I can't tell you how much this means to me. Draco and I are still working things out—we didn't think about the future before, but I'm really happy to know I don't have to choose between him and you and Ron... I couldn't, you know. I'm just so, so happy that you're both so supportive."

"As if you haven't been of us. Mind, and I know Ron will agree, we both retain the right to beat the stuffing out of Malfoy if he ever hurts you."

"Ron has already formed what he calls the Weasley Warriors. I'm sure he'll get you to join them as well."

"Ha! Brilliant! Listen, Hermione, there's something else: you know better than me how complicated things will be for the two of you. If you have any difficulty with his parents..."

"Thanks, Harry. It's too soon for that right now. And there's the more immediate problem of what will happen to them. They may have survived, but the few Death Eaters still left are going to have to answer for all of them and everything that Voldemort has done. And Draco's caught in the middle of all this..."

"Don't worry, I'm going to speak with Kingsley Shacklebolt as soon as I can. Things are going to be unpleasant for the three of them the next little while. But even with the Ministry and the whole wizarding world wanting to make an example of them, they deserve a fair trial. Otherwise, we're no better than Voldemort."

"Thank you, Harry," she said tearfully. "You've always played fair. Just don't think you'll be able to convert everyone to your way of thinking right away. The old prejudices will take a lot of time to rid, and acceptance can only be given willingly, not enforced."

"I can always guilt them into it, say they owe me for saving all of them!" (Hermione could only laugh and shake her head in response.) "It's good to hear you laugh like that again, Hermione."

"It's good to hear you joke like old times, Harry. You know, they can't just call you 'The Boy Who Lived' anymore. And you've surpassed 'The Chosen One' as well, having fulfilled the prophecy. I know, what about 'Voldemort's Bane'? I like the sound of that... should pass that onto the _Daily Prophet_."

"You wouldn't? If you're a true friend, you'd make sure my name never appears in the 'papers again!"

"As if I could. You were famous before you could even read the 'papers! Did you really think you could lead a quiet existence after this? Even if you built a house as unplottable as Grimmauld Place and never ventured out of it, they'd write reports or, worse, speculations about what sort of hermitic life you lead."

"Guess I'll just have to resign myself to the fact that I won't get a moment's peace." His eyes twinkled mischievously. "Just like you'll have to resign yourself to the fact that your last name will be Malfoy. Ah! Stop it! I'm not your punching bag! Go find Malfoy!"

"Just remember that I've always been better than you at Potions, Harry."

"All right! I'm sorry I teased you! But you have to admit that even you never dreamed you'd end up together with him."

"Yes, love is a funny thing, isn't it?"

"The most powerful force in the world, as Dumbledore would say."

"And we'll build a better world with it."


	17. Snapshots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The backstory to the two framed pictures on the wall...

She crept quietly into the room to see if he was able to put their daughter to bed. She had to suppress a great desire to laugh at the scene before her, and so, instead, she quickly made her way to her room to grab her camera and capture the moment. With all the advantages of magical photographs, there was still something extremely poignant about using Muggle cameras to capture that brief instant in time. As she walked back into the room, she could not help the huge grin at seeing her husband stretched out on the tiny bed, too-long legs dangling off the side. Emma, her head tucked snugly under her father's chin, was curled against his side, her arm wrapped tightly around his neck. The baby slept on her stomach atop his chest, lulled by the steady beating of his heart. Both girls were wrapped securely in their father's arms. Seeing how protective he was of his daughters, even in sleep, made her teary-eyed for a moment, but she blinked away the moisture and focussed the lens. _The perfect Christmas present for the grandparents._

***

He leaned against the doorframe of the boys' room and smiled at how engrossed Lachlan and Aidan were in the story their mother was reading them. There was no question that they had inherited her love of books and stories. Even at such tender ages, they were already voracious readers, and their mother made sure they had access to books from both worlds. Tonight, she was reading and enacting a Muggle story about a little boy's dream to visit the local confectioner’s factory, where the most amazing candies were made. _They'll be demanding another trip to Honeydukes again. It's a good thing Grandpa and Grandma Granger instilled good dental habits in them._

A sudden flash interrupted storytime. Looking up, the occupants of the bed saw a smirking Draco, a camera in-hand.

At their obvious outrage, he calmly explained, "We need a second photograph to balance the one Mummy took and dubbed 'The Sleeping Beauties'. I think I'll call this one 'The Voice of Saruman'."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and yes, in case you're wondering, there is another set of twins.


	18. Perfume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione may have found the perfect scent.

"New scent?"

"Yes, do you like it?"

"Smells lovely."

"Stop, stop! We're going to be late! Oh, behave, you insatiable man, you can have me all to yourself when we get home tonight."

Reining in his passions, he obediently followed her out the bedroom. He caught another whiff of the new fragrance and wondered at the indescribable familiarity. She had been fiddling with her usual concoction of morning dew and lemons, claiming she wanted to add something to make it more interesting, but to date, nothing had satisfied. She had tried florals, like jasmine and cherry blossom, and then fruits, peach, raspberry, mulberry, apricots, apples... there was one week where she smelled different every day. He had given his honest opinions on each, and they had both agreed that she had not yet found the right scent. This new one, however, was just right, but why couldn't he put a name to it?

He was tense throughout dinner, holding firm control of himself and forcing his mind to focus on the discussions that were going on. The scent was distracting. All he could think of whenever he had a mind lapse was her: how beautiful she looked all dressed-up, how graceful she moved, how soft and supple her body was in his arms at night... _Steady on, Malfoy. She promised you dessert later. No need to stand to attention just yet._

The night seemed endless, but they finally made it home. As soon the bedroom door closed, he had her down to her knickers and pinned to the bed, kissing and caressing until she was senseless with desire.

At last, sated, he collapsed, nuzzling her breast, breathing a sigh of contentment.

He went still. Eureka.

_The scent was what she smelled like after they make love._

"So, it's a keeper?"


	19. Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco proves he can be a hero... at least in the eyes of his family.

Ah, now this was comfort. A deep couch, a roaring fire, and an armful of curvaceous wife.

As if divining his thoughts, she sighed in contentment. "It was very kind of Molly to suggest a sleepover for all the children. She may have raised seven of her own, but to have all the grandchildren under one roof: that takes a lot of courage and lots of reinforcement of the walls."

"So, did you pick up those strengthening skills from her or were you advising her on how best to prevent the roof from collapsing?"

"Should I remind you that your temper tantrum made those holes in the roof?"

"Well, might I point out that the roof is constructed mainly of wood, whereas the walls that you crumbled to dust are of stone and mortar? Given the density of the materials used, I'd say it's harder to breach the walls, no?"

"Maybe so, but my ability to do damage to the wall is also directly proportional to how much more justified I was at losing my temper at a certain sodomized Slytherin, wouldn't you say?"

"'Sodomized Slytherin' it is now, I see. And I was starting to get fond of 'epileptic ferret'. Why, 'arrogant git' seems downright affectionate."

"You know I love you, my darling Drakie-wakiekins."

Shudder. "Please don't remind me of that nickname. A woman of such cool demeanour usually, yet Mother comes up with the ickiest terms of affection. I'm just glad I was never privy to her names for Father. I don't think I could ever look him in the eye without throwing up."

"Maybe I should ask her for some pointers. That way, perhaps you'd cease with your incorrigibly amorous attentions, and I wouldn't be in this pickle again."

"Twins run on your mother's side of the family, so you can't blame me for—"

A crackle in the fire interrupted their banter. Looking over, they saw an agitated Harry.

"Hi 'Mione, hi Malfoy. Look, I know this isn't the best time, but we could really use Malfoy's expertise on this raid tonight. Someone tipped us about another cache of Dark objects in Albania. 'Mione, Ginny's going to stay with you, if that's all right. We shouldn't be too long."

"You boys go ahead. Don't worry about me. The staff at St. Mungo's have been on alert since last week. These pigheaded babies just refuse to cooperate, that's all. Must be a Malfoy thing."

"When I get back, I'm going to make sure that you keep all your thoughts unverbalized, woman." A swift kiss, and he disappeared into the fire.

***

Several hours later, a worn-out Draco Malfoy Flooed home.

No sooner did he get his bearings in the cozy living room, a deep voice commanded his attention. "Good. You're home. We've been searching frantically for you. St. Mungo's, right now."

"Circe's teat! Hermione!" Draco was fully alert now and stumbled a moment later into the reception area of the maternity ward. A crowd of familiar faces were already gathered. Ignoring their cacophony, he sought out the Healer. "Susan, what's going on? Is she all right?"

"I'll explain in the room. Follow me, please." 

He rushed after her. She brought him into an empty room and shut the door firmly. "Explanations can wait. What I need you to do now is clear your mind and focus only on my instructions." When she saw his semi-relaxed state, she continued, "I need you to think of the simplest way to get Hermione out of her trance. Have you thought of something?" He nodded. "All right, think of a back-up plan." Again, he nodded. "I'm going to bring you into the room now. Remember, just focus on what you have to do."

Draco covered the distance between the door and the bed in a few strides. Scooping the stiff-backed Hermione in his arms, he crushed his lips to hers, insistent, demanding, ruthless, possessive, domineering... Why wasn't she responding? What was wrong? _I'm here, dammit! Pay attention!_

Finally, he felt her melt into him. Her arms slackened and wound slowly around his neck. And then, she responded with a passionate tug-of-war that left him weak-kneed with relief. His kiss softened. Releasing her lips, he looked down on her with concern as his other senses caught up and allowed him to understand the situation more clearly. She had been frozen in pain—he hoped he would never see that look again—and her telepathic link with the children must have been strengthened to the point that they were locked together in that pain, oblivious to everything. He rubbed her bulge in reassuring circles and felt several kicks.

Bending down, he murmured, "I know you're both impatient to meet us, but I need you to be patient and wait. Mummy needs time to get everything ready. Will you be good and let her take care of things?" He smiled when he felt them calm down. Then he felt Hermione tense as a contraction hit. "How close were your contractions before you froze, My-own?"

Susan Bones answered. "They were three minutes apart, but as you probably guessed, the pain disturbed the babies enough that it put the three of them into an incessant feedback loop. We stabilized their vitals, but it's fortunate that you arrived when you did. Another half-hour—" She shook her head, unwilling to continue.

"All right, My-own, focus on me. We've been through this and worse before. We're pros. Now, breathe, love." He continued to coach her, alternating between encouraging words and simple, direct commands.

Satisfied that he had things under control, Healer Bones excused herself. "I'll just be a moment. Need to tell the entourage that the danger has passed."

Hours later, an exhausted but exhilarated Draco entered the reception room again. "Father, Mother, Edmund, Charmaine, everyone else, may I present Esme Alethea and Aidan Christopher."


	20. Hesitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione regrets.

She was a coward. A cowardly Gryffindor. It sounded horrible when articulated in so many words but true.

How many times had she told herself that she had to confront him—in their little nook, in a deserted hall at night during patrols, in the library, _in the Prefect's bathroom_ even—and how many times had she changed her mind, convincing herself that she would cause more harm by accusing him of intangible crimes? But the true reason, if she was honest with herself, was her fear that they would lose that fragile, tentative bond that had developed. She could not face the possibility of him telling her to leave him alone. Again.

She had had her speech all figured out: _Draco, I know what task Voldemort gave you. I know you're being threatened with your parents' lives. I know you're at your wit's end—go to Dumbledore! He'll find a way to keep you safe. Remember how he extended his protection to the students of Durmstrang in Fourth? How much more claim would you have compared to them? Don't go through with it, please! If you're unable to tell the Headmaster, let me. You don't have to bear the burden alone._ Again and again, she had analyzed it, modified it, softened it, practised it, but not dared speak it.

And now it was too late. Instead of saving him from harm, she had pushed him toward it. He now ran the risk of being hunted by both Death Eaters and Order members. His life was forfeit. And it was all her fault.

Over and over, Harry's words reverberated in her head. He'd hesitated. He didn't say the _Avada Kedavra_. Dumbledore had offered him and his mother full protection. Dumbledore had known all along about the task. He'd hesitated. Knees to chin, pendant grasped tightly, she wept bitter tears: of regret, of despair, of self-loathing. She cried until there were no tears left, her sobs turned to dry heaving. And this sanctum was now but cold, echoing stone.

Dumbledore was dead. And she had done nothing.


	21. Narcissa (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does Narcissa approve?

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_I would be honoured if you would join me in a small luncheon at the Manor next Saturday at noon. I look forward to spending a quiet afternoon getting better acquainted with you._

_Please send your reply by owl at your earliest convenience._

_Sincerely,_

_Narcissa Malfoy_

The summons had come. The most polite summons she'd ever received but one nonetheless. Hermione couldn't say she was surprised. Not after that photo and short article in the _Daily Prophet_. She grinned when she recalled that the article, though attributed to some unknown writer, had "Rita Skeeter" stamped all over it. The smile disappeared when she recalled that she had yet to confirm the luncheon with her parents to meet " _that young man that has you so smitten, dear._ " She sighed. Perhaps she should make next weekend's plans a Meet the Parents one. _I'd better write Mum._

When the fateful Saturday arrived, Hermione arose early and chose her clothes with care. She wanted something sophisticated yet subtle, modern yet comfortable. _Now I know why Mum had such a headache finding something to wear for her Dental School interview._ She finally settled on an outfit in her favourite periwinkle blue.

Arriving a few minutes before noon, Hermione found the front gates of the Manor open. She was ushered into the garden. A table had been set up in the gazebo overlooking a small rose garden that was tucked away from the main grounds. Narcissa Malfoy rose to greet her.

"Thank you very much for coming, my dear. Please, have a seat. What sort of refreshment can I offer you?"

"Thank you for inviting me to your home, Mrs. Malfoy. A pumpkin juice would be lovely."

The next few minutes were spent exchanging pleasantries. Hermione noticed Narcissa's polite smile becoming a more genuine one.

"Ms. Granger, I know that you have guessed my intent for inviting you here today. Allow me to thank you for making Draco so happy." She paused then said, carefully, "I wish, also, to apologize on behalf of all my family for the cruelties you received the last time you were here. I—I do not expect you to forgive us, but I'm grateful that you are not holding it against Draco. He was a victim as much as you were."

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. I have made peace with what had transpired during Voldermort's second rising, and while I still retain some anger toward your sister, I hold you entirely blameless. If you were at fault at all, you'd completely redeemed yourself by saving Harry. I know he has already expressed his gratitude, but allow me, in turn, to also voice my personal thanks to you for saving him."

"You're very kind to say so, my dear, but I confess that I little deserve it. I was being completely selfish. The Dark Lord had left Draco for dead and had denied Lucius and me the chance to find him, even his body. When I saw Mr. Potter step into the firelight and confront the Dark Lord, he looked resigned yet determined to be brave. I will never forget my first thought: he was scared but willing to sacrifice himself for his loved ones. I had seen that same look on Draco's face when he told me not to worry, that he would not fail the task he was given. I was determined that the Dark Lord would not harm another mother's son as he had mine."

Hermione refrained from giving into her impulse to comfort the distressed woman before her, knowing instinctively that she had not yet earned the privilege.

After a few moments, Narcissa wiped away her tears and gave a watery smile. "I beg your pardon, Ms. Granger. What you must think of me, to embarrass you in such a way!"

"Please, don't apologize, Mrs. Malfoy. I'm sorry to have brought up those painful memories. If I may be so bold: I would have done the same in your shoes."

"No, you would have done more. You would have taken your son out of reach of the Dark Lord. You would have kept him safe."

"But you did keep him safe, as best as you could have done without bringing harm to yourself or your husband. The Unbreakable Vow is not a contract to be entered upon lightly or carelessly. You risked Voldemort's wrath, should he have ever discovered it."

"Draco is always praising you for your generosity, and now I have seen it for myself. I couldn't be more pleased with his choice."

Hermione blushed and stammered her thanks, pointing out that Narcissa, too, was being more than generous by offering both funds and her own time to the efforts to rebuild the devastated wizarding world.

"Oh, my dear, those charity events are but child's play compared to your efforts at the Ministry. Draco tells me that you are the driving force behind several of the new laws to come out under Minister Shacklebolt's administration."

"He's exaggerating my role in those. It truly was a collaborative effort. And they couldn't have had such success in such a short time if it didn't receive the support of so many, including yourself."

"Well, my dear, if the Dark Lord's second rising has taught us anything, it is how small and integrated our world is. We must each do our duty lest it should fall into further chaos."

Hermione agreed and tucked into her entrée. They sat in companionable silence for a while.

When the plates were removed, Narcissa asked, "I hope you will forgive my impertinence, my dear, but may I ask how you instigated Draco's change of heart toward you?"

Hermione grinned and proceeded to tell of the chance meeting in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and of how their opinions of each other had gradually changed over the course of the school year. Narcissa was observing her very closely during that time, and now she nodded, as if she had come to a decision.

"I have no doubts of Draco's intentions, my dear, so please forgive my presumption in welcoming you to the family. If my foolish son makes a muck of things, I will personally see that he is locked up in Azkaban."

Hermione laughed and blushed and expressed her thanks.

"If it isn't too forward of me, I would love to have luncheon with Mr. and Mrs. Granger sometime in the near future. Could you provide me with their address?"

"I'm actually going to be having lunch with them tomorrow. They—they've been asking to meet Draco. If you would trust me, I'd gladly make the arrangements. What day would be most convenient for you? Do you have a preference of location?"

"That's very kind of you, dear. My schedule in the upcoming weeks is entirely at your disposal, so whatever day suits Mr. and Mrs. Granger would be fine. Is there a place in Muggle London that they frequent?"

"Actually, they've been curious to try the new restaurant, Gubraithian Fire, in Salisbury that Draco had brought me to recently. Would that be convenient for you, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"You are so considerate, my dear. I hope it won't be too much of an imposition for Mr. and Mrs. Granger." When Hermione demurred, she continued, "In that case, my dear, I shall look forward to the luncheon. I will send word to the owner, Mr. Marasmius, to expect your reservation."

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Please, call me Narcissa."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soon after the article was published, Rita Skeeter found a box delivered by owl on her desk early one morning. It contained a mason jar with the Malfoy crest stamped into it. Sealed within was a dead beetle.


	22. Narcissa (Part 2)

"Draco, do you think Hermione would prefer the sapphire ring or the emerald one as an engagement ring?"

"Mother, I don't think that this is the right time to ask for her hand in marriage. I have yet to find my foothold in this new world that is being rebuilt."

"I am not speaking of a wedding, although you should not wait too long for that either. Unless you are unsure of your intentions toward her, I feel it advisable to secure her affections. If she were to be promised to another wizard, you will live to regret your complaisance."

"Don't worry, I won't let her out of my sight."

 _Typical Malfoy male arrogance_ , she thought, but held back her sharp retort. Instead, she tried another tactic. "It is tradition to formally ask the father for his daughter's hand in marriage, as you're aware, dear. Perhaps you would like to do so tomorrow when you meet Mr. and Mrs. Granger for luncheon?"

Draco choked on his food. "How—how do you know I'm meeting her parents for lunch tomorrow?"

"Oh, Hermione told me over luncheon this afternoon. Really, Draco,"—She repressed her desire to laugh as he choked on his wine.—"such manners! Others would think I never taught you proper etiquette at the table!"

Eyes watering, Draco demanded, "You—you invited her for lunch here?"

"I could hardly do anything less, since you were so indiscreet as to allow that dreadful Skeeter woman—and I know it's her!—to publish that... that 'article' in the _Daily Prophet_ , and with pictures, too! How could you expose Hermione to such slander? I don't even want to know what gossipers like Cassandra Parkinson are saying about all this!"

"She's hardly a stranger to this type of gossip, Mother. Don't forget who her friends are."

"That may be, but as a future Malfoy, she should be free from such ridicule. Tarnished as our reputation may be in the eyes of many, we still hold a modicum of respect from the other, older wizarding families. I have been trying very hard to be a mediator between our social strata and the plebeians, and I was starting to see results, but now you've ruined all my plans! I was hoping to invite Hermione to the next charity event—it would have been a _coup d'etat_! Don't give me that look, young man! I admit that I considered her only an invaluable asset at first, but after spending the afternoon talking with her, I know she'll be the daughter I never had. She is refined, intelligent, and fearless. One would never believe she wasn't born a pure-blood. She would definitely put those antediluvians in their place."

"I should tell her that she made such a wonderful impression."

"I can only hope you would be such a success tomorrow."

"And why wouldn't I? When have I ever failed to charm any of your friends?"

"Have you forgotten that they know nothing about our family except what they may have heard from Hermione? If memory serves correctly, you were not on good terms with her during your time at Hogwarts. You will have to work even harder to erase that impression before you can even contemplate establishing a good rapport with them."

"All right. Don't worry! I won't disgrace the family name and fail to make her that daughter you never had!"

"You know, Draco, the Black family used to have a tradition whereby the future son-in-law had to pass three trials before he would even be granted an audience with the family patriarch. Perhaps I should inform Hermione of them."

"Mother, I'm your flesh-and-blood!"

"Yes, my Dragonet, and I do love you, but I must consider what is in the best interest of the family. On second thought, I shall forgo the trials and modify the Will, stipulating that, once you have provided the family with a son and heir, you may be disinherited should you fail to perform your duties as a proper husband. 'Proper' as defined by your future wife, naturally."

Draco stared at his mother with his mouth open.

Finally, unable to resist, Narcissa burst out laughing. She rushed to embrace her speechless son, kissing him tenderly. "Oh, my darling Drakie-wakiekins! As if I would do such a thing to you! After I nearly lost you to that hateful Monster, too! Don't worry, darling, you will always be my pride and joy!"

The shaken Draco looked up at her and suddenly smirked. "Mama, I want that new broom for my birthday!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to kazfeist for suggesting the "Dragonet" nickname—isn't it cute?


	23. Peeved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not always fluffy in the Malfoy household...

"...and then he said that if I didn't keep up, I wouldn't get Sorted into Slytherin and he'd disown me!"

"Oh, sweetie, what do I keep telling you: don't pay attention to what your Draconian father tells you when he's in that mood. Hush! Now, go into the library and pick out a new book to read. Mummy will come check on you in a few minutes."

"Slandering my name again, love?"

"More like you're living up to it!"

"I'll have you know that I was named after the constellation."

"That may be, but you're acting just like the tyrant."

"You call a bit of physical discipline to strengthen the body and mind 'tyranny'?"

"It is when you drill them for four hours every day!"

"How else can they hone their skills? Father and I used to practice for six!"

"He's only seven!"

"So? He's healthy. He's got the Malfoy blood in him, and Malfoy men aren't sissies! Your mollycoddling is already taking a toll on Loks—he'll end up in Hufflepuff if you don't stop!"

"You're lucky Susan isn't around to hear you say that. If you end up the permanent roommate of Lockhart in St. Mungo's, it'll be entirely your own fault!"

" _My_ fault? To want to impart some skills to my own sons so that they won't have to suffer through life? And while we're on the topic, what about _your_ method of teaching? Cramming their heads with useless facts. They've practically devoured that library! I won't have them becoming bookish weaklings!"

"So, you'd rather cram their heads with useless tactical strategies and have them become pranksters and bullies! Don't think I don't know: after you've trained them, you're going to use Harry's boys and Ron's son as target practice! And that's what this all really boils down to: using your own sons to help get back at Harry and Ron for beating you at Quidditch and chess!"

"You're out of your mind! I've beaten them plenty of times! And I most certainly don't need my sons to help me do battle! Do you think I didn't suffer enough under the Dark Lord to turn around and perpetrate that same crime on my own flesh-and-blood? Or maybe you think I'm like Dumbledore, leaving you ignorant to the fact that you're nothing but a sacrificial lamb!"

"Stop it! You're being unreasonable! How _could_ you even bring all of that back up after all this time!"

"Unreasonable! Did the Ministry suddenly pass a law decreeing mass Obliviation? We can't even talk about the past? Simply pretend it never happened? It happened! We can't change it! We can only use what we've learned and teach our children how to deal with it! And you know they're going to have a harder time at school than either of us ever did! The sons and daughters of a Slytherin and a Gryffindor? The children of a former Death Eater and the know-it-all Mudblood friend of Harry Potter? They'll be lynched!"

"Why must you be so negative! Haven't we done all we could to decrease this type of intolerance? Hasn't the respect you've gained over the years convinced you that people no longer see you as a Death Eater?"

"You've always been the eternal optimist! Don't you see the reality? We may have joined forces and ploughed over them, but there are still some out there who hate us for turning their comfortable world upside-down! Trust me, our enemies are just biding their time. Meanwhile, they're poisoning their children against us, and ours will be the easiest targets!"

"Enemies! You're just being paranoid, Draco 'Sodding' Malfoy!"

"And you're being naive, Hermione 'Churlish' Granger!"

"SHUT UP!" Draco and Hermione froze in mid-argument. "Look at me!" Their heads were jerked toward the high-pitched voice of their younger daughter. "I'm ashamed of the both of you! Acting in such a childish fashion! Why, even when I bicker with Em, I don't get so carried away! Just look what you've done to the roof again!" Their chins were pulled upwards. "And we'd just gotten it re-shingled last month! If you don't learn to control your tempers, I'm going to tell Grandma Malfoy to give you garden duty again. But it's getting late, so I'm not going to tell Grandma until tomorrow. So for now, you're going to both behave like civilized wizards and fix the roof. After that, Papa, you're going to go take a shower and then read me a bedtime story. Mummy, you're in charge of getting the house settled for the night and the others ready for bed. Now, move your buttocks!" Draco and Hermione were helplessly propelled out the front door.

When they were outside and no longer under their daughter's magic, Hermione turned to Draco and remarked, "You've been wasting your time. _She's_ clearly your heir apparent."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco is always "Papa" when he's in trouble.


	24. Amends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is self-explanatory.

As they gazed at the newly-erected tombstone, Draco smiled when he recalled the posthumous Order of Merlin, First Class. Potter had done well to badger the Ministry until they agreed. Though his former Head of House would never know that he'd been honoured, it was a satisfaction for those he had protected with his life.

"My-own, will you come with me to the Headmaster's office? I've already got McGonagall's go-ahead."

"Of course. How are we getting to Hogwarts?"

"Apparating first to Hogsmeade, but we could go by train if you prefer."

"Apparition's fine."

When they arrived at the gates, Hagrid was already waiting for them. The grounds seemed eerily silent now that it was summer. The castle itself was still under repair, but a sense of peace pervaded its halls. They climbed the spiral staircase and knocked. Professor McGonagall ushered them in and told them she would be in the staff room, should they need to find her.

Draco took a deep breath and approached Dumbledore's portrait. In a halting but humbled tone, he thanked the former Headmaster for being merciful and begged his forgiveness. Dumbledore surprised him with an apology: had he not been so reticent, opting to help Draco through indirect means, he could have saved him the anguish of their last encounter. Dumbledore also added that the only forgiveness that Draco should ask was of himself. A bewildered Draco could only nod and turn his attention toward another portrait.

Taking another breath, Draco apologized to Snape and thanked him for his life. Snape nodded and wished him well.

Hermione had all this time been holding tightly to Draco's hand and, after bestowing a beaming smile on him, also thanked Snape for Draco's life and was rewarded with a rare smile from her former Potions Master.

As they turned to leave, they heard a shout, "Surely you are not leaving just like that?"

Finding that they had been addressed by Dilys Derwent, Hermione replied, "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"It has been _how_ many years since the last Gryffindor-Slytherin match? Do we not get any acknowledgment?"

Smirking, Draco gave the confused Hermione a sound kiss. Thunderous applause broke out, and had the couple paid attention, they would have seen a beaming Dumbledore, a wistful Snape, and a harumphing Phineas Nigellus.


	25. Veritaserum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The discussions at the table become much more interesting when the children are present.

"Mummy, you look tired. Did you not sleep well last night?" Emma asked.

"Mummy's a bit tired because I slept later than I should have, but I'll be all right."

"Mummy, is your cock sore, too?" 

Draco choked on his tea. Lucius choked on his breakfast. Narcissa glared at them.

"To answer your question, Mummy doesn't have a cock, so it can't be sore. However, 'cock' is a word that you must never use again—only adults can use it, but not at the table during meals. Where did you hear that term?"

"I overheard Grandpa asking Daddy if he was tired and whether it was because his cock was sore. And you looked tired, too."

"I see. Well, it's all right for Grandpa to ask Daddy that because he cares about Daddy, but remember what I just told you about using that word."

"OK, Mummy."

"Mummy, can my cock get sore?"

"Loks, the rule about not using that word applies to you, too."

"Yes, I know, but I don't know what else to call it, since I don't know what it is."

"Then, how do you know you have one?"

"Well, you don't have one, yet Grandpa and Daddy both seem to have one, since they can talk about it, so I deducted that I have one, too."

"The correct term is 'deduced', Loks, but yes, you're right, you do have one. I won't tell you what it is because I don't want you using that term until you're an adult."

"Mummy, can I use that word when I'm an adult?" asked Emma.

"No, you may not!" exclaimed Lucius and Draco simultaneously.

"That's not fair! How come Loks gets to use that word?"

"He's a boy!"

"Well, then, Mummy, is there a better word for it? You always told me that whatever boys can do, girls can do better. So, if boys use that bad term, then there must be a better one that girls can use."

"There is a better term, but I will tell you when you're an adult."

"How old will I be then?"

"Old enough to be married and with two children to plague your life!"

"Draco!"

"Honestly, Draco, you can be so antiquated."

"What, do you want her to be familiar with that term before she's married?"

"I would hope that she would have some proper knowledge of what it entails before she's married! I never said she had to know it intimately!"

"Mummy, does that mean you knew about its tail before you married Daddy?"

"Yes, Mummy, do tell."

"I'll tell you when you're an adult, Em."

"I wish I was an adult now. There are so many things I could know. Like what's so good about kissing boys and why Daddy has to make Mummy scream to have more babies and—"

"All right, I think that's enough discussion for the morning. Why don't you two go out into the garden and play for an hour while the sun is out. Come, Mummy will go with you while Daddy finishes breakfast."

As the door closed, Narcissa's angry voice could be heard. "If I've told both of you once, I've told you one million times: _be careful of what you say when the children are around!_ But do the two of you listen? No! And now you see the result of your indiscretions! This is just like the time when Draco was young and we had the Parkinsons over for tea! I nearly died of embarrassment when..."


	26. Flummoxed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They say that two heads are better than one...

Lucius was enjoying a quiet read in the library when the door burst open and Draco staggered in.

"Father! You've got to help me! I think she's been poisoned!"

Lucius quickly conjured a divan and both men managed to lay the unconscious Hermione gently onto it. Lucius muttered various incantations and occasionally tested her pulse points and breathing.

Draco paced. "I don't know how it could've happened. We've eaten the exact same foods these past three days, and the children and I are all fine! She just collapsed!"

"Lucius, did you hear a racket in the drawing room just—goodness! Draco, what are you doing here? What is going on?"

"Hello, Mother. Hermione's been poisoned, I think, and Father's trying to revive her. And no, she hasn't eaten anything out of the ordinary because we've shared all our meals together these past three days. But there's no other explanation for her collapse!"

"Draco, did you leave the children alone in the house?"

"No, of course not, Mother! I've been a father for three years now! They're staying over at the Potters'."

"Hmph. When did she collapse?"

"Just before dinner."

"Has she been feeling weak or tired lately? Lack of appetite? Moody?"

"Not more moody than usual, though she hasn't been eating very well. Now that you mention it, I did hear her vomitting in the bathroom this morning—it's why I suspected poisoning."

"How did you get her here? You didn't use Apparition, did you?"

"No! We Flooed. I couldn't risk splinching her and having the poison spread."

"Well, thank goodness you do have some intelligence."

"Hey!"

"And have you found anything suspicious, Lucius?"

"Not at all! I can't understand it—I've tried detecting all of the ones that could cause loss of consciousness, even the more rare ones."

"Galadriel preserve us! Move aside, please, Lucius."

Narcissa spoke a simple incantation, and the library flooded with a dazzling display of blue and pink fireworks.

"Wendelin's withered womb!" 

"Morgana's molded milk!" 

Father and son thudded onto the floor.

"Language! There are innocents in the room! Really, one who has been a father for three years and the other for over thirty! Yet the most obvious signs were missed! In any case, my Dragonet, you seem to have set a new family record: two pairs of opposite-sexed twins! Quite an accomplishment!"

"Fred and George call them the Gryfferin twins," said a weak voice.

"Oh, my dear, you're awake! How do you feel?"

"A bit woozy still. I started regaining consciousness, but then the Flooing triggered another bout of nausea."

"Well, you'd best come with me. Seems two Malfoy heads are the same as none."

***

For her birthday that year, Narcissa was presented with a small crystal lioness with her two cubs, blue and pink fireworks sparkling from her belly. 


	27. Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the one ring...

"Now that you've finished your tea, Hermione, I'd like you to come with me to the library." 

Narcissa led Hermione into the library and then into a room behind one of the panelled walls. Past another set of panelled doors, they arrived in a cozy but brightly lit room. Staring around her in astonishment, Hermione viewed the Malfoy vault for the first time. Anticipating her questions, Narcissa explained that this room was more secure than the vaults of Gringotts because it could only be accessed by legitimate Malfoys. The Bonding ceremony for new couples was not truly completed until a private ritual was performed wherein the wards were modified to accept the new Malfoy bride (or the new groom); children born of the unions were, of course, immediately recognized. The wards about the Manor had long accepted Hermione as a non-intruder; the promise ring that she had recently received from Draco had allowed her further access.

"But a promise ring is not a true engagement ring, and that is the reason I have brought you here. I would like you to choose your ring. Draco will formally present it to you, of course, but I think you should be the one to decide what sort of marriage you expect and, therefore, the set of rings you will be wearing."

Narcissa then showed her several matched sets of rings (one engagement ring and two wedding bands) and explained the spells that were incorporated into them. One set, the engagement ring a square emerald set in silver, was spelled so that total fidelity was expected of the bride; if she broke that vow, she would die of a rotting flesh disease. The aquamarine-and-silver was hexed so that if the couple did not have issue within ten years of marriage, they would both die, and the next-of-kin would inherit and be expected to carry on the family name. A silver-and-sapphire set was charmed so that only sons would be born to the couple.

A beautiful amethyst stood out among the greens and blues, and Hermione asked about it. This set prevented the bride from leaving the Manor grounds unless accompanied by her father-in-law, husband, or son. Narcissa commented tartly that the last Malfoy bride to wear it had exacted revenge by producing a son and heir whose father was of a different branch of the family. They only knew this because gray eyes were rare in the husband's line. But as she did not produce any other viable offspring, her husband was forced to accept the child as his heir.

Narcissa's own ring was a group of three smaller square emeralds set in silver that was charmed so that the first child to be born would be the son and heir; all subsequent children would be daughters. Lucius' parents had had a similar spell on theirs. 

"But what if the first child conceived was a girl?"

"She... would not have reached the full term." Seeing Hermione's shock, Narcissa continued, quietly, "I was fortunate: Draco was born by our first wedding anniversary. I never admitted it to Lucius, but I made sure that I cast a powerful Contraceptive Charm every subsequent time that we, well, I need not expound further. The—the Dark Lord was very powerful then and gaining ever more support. You know what he did to my son; I did not even want to think what that monster could do with any daughter I could have had.

"Never mind, my dear, I did not think you would even consider having such spells placed on your rings. If I may suggest this set—it’s not quite as elaborate as some of the others, but it is in fact quite a rare stone." Narcissa pointed to a single stone set in silver that was sitting in one corner; it would not have garnered any attention except for its colour: it was a deep pink. Narcissa said it was a pink sapphire.

"My only hesitation in recommending this one is the spell attached to it: the ancestors who owned the rings were the only real love match in the family for generations—she was the daughter and heir because she was the only child to survive infancy; he was the son of a local salt merchant. They could not bear the thought of being bereft of one another when they eventually neared death, and they charmed their rings so that they would die together. Sadly, she died in childbirth. A distant cousin succeeded her."

Narcissa then pointed out two other sets that did not have any spells on them, but they were not as magnificent as the others.

Hermione contemplated the choices before her. She finally asked, "How often did the bride get to choose her ring?"

"Not very often, especially if she was not already a Malfoy. Lucius chose ours."

"In spite of the struggles Draco and I have had to reach this point, we have always tried very hard to be as open and honest and non-judgmental as possible. Whichever one of the unspelled sets that Draco prefers would be fine with me. I want us to be equals in our life together."

***

When Hermione opened the box that Draco presented her the following evening, she was shocked to see the pink sapphire staring at her.

"Before you accuse me of being a selfish bastard, and in the spirit of full disclosure, I will warn you, My-own, that my Mother failed to mention the other spell attached to the ring: if no issue is produced within five years of marriage, we will remain barren, and I would eventually have to pass the Malfoy fortune onto my next-of-kin, who is now Arthur Weasley. Oh, and I modified the death hex so that it would only be activated should you die prematurely."


	28. Trimming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the vanity of the Malfoys to the pride of the Gaunts, the gods deliver us.

"Hi, Daddy!"

"Hello, sweetheart! Circe's t—what happened to your hair?!"

"Mummy cut it. She said it was getting too long and I was squashing it in my sleep. Is it very ugly?"

"No, of course not. You look beautiful with both long and short hair. And look, when it's short like this, it's more curly. Didn't you say you wanted your hair to be more like Mummy's?"

"Yes. And Mummy put a curly spell on it because it wasn't curly enough."

"Well, it looks great on you. Where's Mummy?"

"In the library. She says she needs to research something for work. Oh, and here: Mummy made three braids out of my hair, and she said to give one to you."

"Thank you, I shall keep it safe. You go and play. I'll go say 'Hi!' to Mummy."

After watching his daughter's skipping back, Draco stalked to the library with a scowl. "Hermione..."

Without looking up from her notes, she replied, "I cut her hair because she was getting too vain about it. I actually caught her primping in the mirror yesterday. I don't want her to grow up only caring about her looks. I'm sure you have your braid; the other two will be duly given to the grandpas. And yes, I'm well aware they will have an even greater reaction than you. My father was just as shocked when mine was cut for the first time. Having the twins raised my basal body temperature, so if it wasn't for your insistence that I keep this length, I'd have my hair cut even shorter than Emma's."

"You know very well why I like your hair long. You make the cutest noises when I thread my fingers through it..." He demonstrated his statement and tilted her head up for a kiss, grunting in triumph as she moaned softly.

"Mummy! Look what she did! Oh, hi, Daddy! Mummy, look!"

Hermione and Draco broke their kiss to stare at a very furious, very _bald_ Lachlan.

"Were you making fun of your sister's hair, Loks?"

"No! She was going on and on about how pretty her new hair was and how Daddy said he thought it pretty. She was interrupting my story! All I said was that mine was curlier and she got all mad and then she did this!"

"Emma Clarisse Malfoy! Get in here right now!" 

A defiant-looking Emma appeared. 

"Did I not tell you I didn't want you to be vain about your looks? Perhaps I should have cut off all your hair so that you can match with Loks."

"No, Mummy! Please, no! I promise I won't be so vain anymore!"

"And so you will: you're going to need a strict lesson about vanity, and since cutting your hair wasn't incentive enough, you are going to live the next month without being able to see yourself in any reflective surface. We'll see if we can cure this habit of yours. No, I don't want another word except an apology to your brother. Now, I want you to go to your room and think about why I'm giving you this punishment. I'll call you when dinner is ready. Loks, you can go back to your book. Don't worry, your hair will grow back. Very soon, if you take after Mummy."

When they were alone again, Draco murmured, "Don't you think you were being too hard on her, My-own? After all, it's normal for girls to want to be pretty."

"You mean, it's normal for Malfoys to primp and preen. Would you like to share in her punishment? Frankly, she gets her vanity from her father."

"I don't primp!"

"So, you admit you're vain!"

"No! I just take good care of my appearance, that's all!"

"Right! You take twice as long as I do whenever we get ready for balls and formal dinners, yet I've never been told I looked unkempt or under-dressed."

"I—you—you have more natural beauty than me! I have to work harder to be as beautiful as you!"

"I'm not your Mother: you can't talk your way around me like that. And who was the one who sulked for days because Pansy thought he looked ridiculous with a moustache?"

"She called me a badger!"

"You looked like one."

"You never said anything about me looking ridiculous!"

"Because I knew you wouldn't stop growing that ridiculous tuft unless one of your Slytherin friends told you that you looked awful."

"Did I really look like a badger?"

"Yes, but if it heals your wounded ego, I think you look infinitely more handsome clean-shaven."

"So, you admit you love me for my looks."

"I'll admit it's nice to stare at pretty eye-candy when having sex with said sweet."

"Oh, my battered heart! To think that I'm the trophy-on-the-arm."

"You're tall, slim, and blond. You fit the stereotype perfectly."

"Ouch! Do I have nothing else to offer besides my physique?"

"Now you're fishing. Not taking the bait. I'm stuck with you and you with me, so we'll just have to deal as best we can."

"Well, since you can't get out of this marriage and just admitted you like staring at this piece of meat during wild sex, I guess now is a good time to tell you I want a house-full of children."

Swallowing any further argument she could advance, he remembered just in time to make sure the door was locked and _Muffliato_ 'd.


	29. Sneak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One must always beware when one's house contains a Slytherin...

"Draco, what would you like for dinner tonight?"

"What food does that Muggle contraption of yours have to offer?"

"Need I remind you that the 'Muggle contraption' has an entire shelf of alcoholic beverages that you alone utilize?"

"Although I distinctly recall you saying that you don't like said beverages, you're always welcome to share with me."

"Thank you, no. One of us has to stay sober. Besides, you know what happened the last time you tricked me into getting drunk."

"Tricked you? You were the most congenial drinking partner!"

"Hmph! You know, I knew you had your insecurities, but in that one area, you always seemed so assured. Did you really think you needed me to be inebriated to be complaisant?"

"Huh! I don't need alcohol or _any_ type of trickery to convince any woman! I only wanted to make you forget that you made me promise not to see you that week because of some silly, outdated tradition."

"Silly, it was your mother who insisted. You could've spent every night with me if you wanted. I suppose I should be thankful that you didn't show up the night before. I don't think your mother or my parents would've been terribly impressed if we were hungover during the ceremony."

"It would've been very amusing to see the shock on Potter and Weasley's faces though."

"And here I thought that you boys had made peace. I'm glad I got married after both of them, in that case! Who knows what sort of trouble you could've caused otherwise."

"Oh, nothing too gauche, I assure you. It's not my style to cause a scene. I'm a Slytherin, in case you forgot."

"Yes, yes, and I didn't hold it against you when I said 'yes'."

"How generous of you!"

"It's my Gryffindor nature, I suppose."

"Hmph! Well, I've never blamed you for that. In fact, it's rather endearing, at times."

"Oh, really? And how should I show my thanks for your forbearance?"

"Oh, a—what was that quaint Muggle phrase—‘romp in the sack’? Yes, that would suffice. And if it so happens to result in the expansion of the family tree..."

"I thought we agreed to wait another year before starting a family."

"Well, if you conceive now, it won't be until next year that we'll have our little Malfoy."

"I see you have this all figured out. There's just one thing you forgot: I'm still on that Muggle contraceptive medication, and we've been making sure to cast the Contraception Charm as an extra precaution."

"Yes, about that: I spoke with Charmaine, and she very kindly found some replacements, some—what did she call them?—oh, vitamins. And I haven't been casting a true Charm for two weeks now."

"Draco Malfoy! You sneaky bastard! So, what you're saying is that I could be pregnant now?!"

"It is a possibility, certainly."

"I suppose we'll need to confirm it. Excuse me while I Floo Susan."

A few minutes later, Hermione stepped out of the fire. "I'm afraid you'll have to try again, Mr. Malfoy. Your evil plan did not succeed."

"Ah well, the fun is in the attempt. I think I know what I want to eat for dinner now."


	30. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is having a nightmare.

The old curse wound was hurting again. All movement turned slow and sluggish. Where were the painkillers? Nowhere to be found.

  
  
  
  
  
  


_Oh no, tea with Narcissa!_ She was late.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Odd, the drawing room door was closed. Opened to darkness.

Wand out.

" _Lum_ —"

She screamed.

The pain! That unforgettable, unrelenting pain! _Please, stop! Oh God, makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop..._

Wild cackling. 

_No! Impossible! You're dead! Oh, MAKE IT STOP!_

  
  
  
  
  
  


Panting. Utter silence.

Why did she stop? What—

Then she heard. Their screams. 

_No! Leave them alone! Don't you dare touch them! This can't be real! Wake up, Hermione, wake up!_

A familiar tug at her navel.

  
  
  
  


A soft and damp landing.

The Forest of Dean. Her watch.

The locket felt heavy.

A distant hoot. Soft scampering. The wind whistled.

"You'll never find the Horcruxes, silly Mudblood!" That bone-chilling voice! Where was he? "Dumbledore is sending you on a wild goose chase! The Weasley boy knew it was hopeless." Anger welled. She would hex Ron so badly when he returned! "He abandoned you. Just like the Malfoy boy abandoned you." 

Flashbacks: arguing with the tight-lipped Draco... the hurt he inflicted when he flinched from her touch... did he really care for her, or was she being a fool? 

"But do not fear: my Death Eaters will look after him. The Carrows love the Cruciatus Curse. Yes, he's been such an easy target for discipline!" 

_No! You lie! Snape will protect him!_

"You're a coward, Voldemort!" Her voice, at last! "By your own creed, your blood isn't any better than mine! And I, at least, am not ashamed of it!"

"Ah, but does Draco Malfoy feel the same way? What would Lucius say if he knew! And those fools you call friends—they would disown you! You would be banished from the wizarding world. Where would you go? To Australia? To the parents who have forgotten they have a daughter?"

"Show yourself! You vile, you evil—" she screamed as the red eyes and odd-shaped head rose out of the locket.

" _Expelliarmus!_ "

  
  
  


The world kept spinning.

SLAM! Cough! Cough!

A wooden crate. 

"I'll just be outside if you need me, Ms. Granger."

What?

Eyes adjusted to the darkness. A darkness that coalesced into a more solid shape.

Oh, the Boggart! She would conquer it this time!

But it did not turn into McGonagall. Oh no, it became—

"Well, Mudblood! Did you think you could escape? Your filthy children are as good as dead—that's what happens when you give them inferior blood! But don't worry, we're keeping your blood traitor husband in the dungeons. He's got a nice Dementor looking after him. One false move: the Kiss. Now, tell me where Potter is! _Crucio!_ "

The pain, mixed with despair, was unbearable.

_Stop, I'll tell! I'll tell! Oh, please stop, he's in the Forest of Dean, please, please, stop, pleasepleaseplease..._

  
  


Silence.

Dare she open her eyes?

_Where's your Gryffindor courage?_

  
  


Open.

Th-the Wizengamot! Comprised entirely of familiar faces: the Order of the Phoenix, Weasleys.

"Hermione, how could you fail us? We were counting on you to find the Horcruxes, but, instead, you betrayed Harry, and now he's dead! Voldemort killed him! Draco's soulless body is in Azkaban, along with Lachlan and Emma, who are catatonic! How could you fail them like that? They killed McGonagall, did you know, and burned down Hogwarts while the students were still trapped inside, innocent children you should have protected, and you, supposedly the smartest witch of your age, how could you succumb to the Cruciatus like a common Slytherin? You always bragged you were stronger than that..."

Outraged faces swarmed around her, blurred, stifling, pressuring, menacing... and then that wretched cackling voice sounded... 

  
_Strong arms—scream! Death-like grip—struggle!_

A sucking sound. That cold, draining feeling... Dolohov's spell clawed... Neville with a bleeding nose being set on fire... the shattering globes and falling shelves crashing around her... Hagrid carrying a dead Harry... _no more, please_... Ron struggling to extricate himself from the tentacles... _stop it_... Fenrir bending over a prostrate Draco... _wake up, wake up_... giving birth to lifeless babies... _let me go, let me go_... Draco walking down the aisle with a beautiful pure-blood... _st-t-t-op, p-pl-pleaaaase..._

_Baby mine, don't you cry_  
_Baby mine, dry your eyes._  
_Rest your head close to my heart,_  
_Never to part,_  
_Baby of mine._

The music got stronger. The voice more familiar. _Draco..._

Hermione woke up with a start and found herself wrapped tightly in her husband's embrace and being rocked gently.

"Shhhhhh... it's all right. It was just a nightmare, that's all. You're safe. Hush." 

She sobbed in relief.

In the morning, she would be reminded that the song she heard was the one she sang to _him_ to draw him out of _his_ nightmares.


	31. First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone has made a mess of Hermione's office...

Hermione could not believe her eyes.

They were everywhere. They covered every possible surface on the furniture and every inch of the floor. Levitating several of them so that she could find a path to her desk and sit down, she grabbed the note that accompanied this ridiculous delivery.

> _You need a bigger office. Shall we go for French or Italian tonight? I have reservations for both, but I know how important democracy is to you..._
> 
> _Meet me in the Atrium at six._
> 
> _Don't be late._

She couldn't help but grin. A democratic despot, how preposterous. She replied by inter-office memo:

> _My office is more than sufficient for my needs, Majesty-mine. If only you would refrain from cluttering it and creating such a fire hazard... I have enough paperwork to deal with as is._
> 
> _How very kind and thoughtful of you to have made the arrangements. I would hate to have your efforts go to waste, so I accept your polite invitation. French sounds delightful._
> 
> _Be nice to Gibbs. He may only be a lowly trainee, but he has read many of the old texts as well and is quite adept at hexes. I do not wish to have dinner with an orange furball again._

She conjured a large glass jar and shrank the origami re'ems to fit into it. She put the jar atop the low filing cabinet by her desk. She quickly planned her day so that she would finish on time.

She didn't want to miss their anniversary dinner.


	32. Lullaby

_“Sing a song of sixpence,  
A pocket full of rye,  
Four-and-twenty blackbirds baked in a pie...”_

“That's the most ridiculous rhyme I've ever heard.”

“Oh hush, Draco. It's the only thing that works. If you can find a better way to lull them to sleep, by all means...”

“You could read from _Beedle the Bard_. You _do_ have the original copy.”

“Magical stories keep them awake. I have to stick to Muggle nursery rhymes; even some of the Muggle stories talking about magic don't work. They _know_.”

“How is that possible? They can't even talk yet!”

“You don't believe me? Fine. You can do bedtime tomorrow night.”

The following night, the babies continued to fuss way past their usual time for bed. Hermione had borrowed some Extendable Ears from the Weasley twins and was having a quiet chuckle listening to Draco’s attempts to put them down. None of his stories, words, pleas, not even his songs—and she had to admit, he did have a surprisingly soothing singing voice—calmed them.

She heard him sigh heavily and take a book from the shelf.

_“Hey, diddle-diddle,  
The cat and the fiddle.  
The cow jumped over the moon...”_

When he finally climbed into bed, she snuggled against him but couldn't resist commenting, “And why are twenty-four blackbirds in a pie more ridiculous than the eloping dish and spoon?” 


	33. Assurance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is a worry-wart. Good thing there's another Florence Nightingale in the house.

She knew she was being ridiculous to worry this way. But even now—after the war had been over for ten years—she still got the gut-clenching, cold-fingers-inducing, irrational fear that he was hurt and she'd never see him again. Never mind that he was with Harry and Ron. Never mind that they were only in search of rare potion ingredients that he needed. The fact that he was out there, somewhere, made her nervous.

He had chided her countless times: he would come home safe; she should know that Potter and Weasley no longer felt compelled to hex him into oblivion; if she fretted so much, even knowing that he was capable of wielding a wand, what on earth was she going to do when the children started Hogwarts? But that was different! They would be protected by their teachers and the castle itself—quite different from gallivanting around in the wild.

"Mummy?"

"What are you doing out of bed, Loks?"

"Daddy says that I'm allowed to stay up with you until you go to bed. He says you're not supposed to sit and worry about him. So, I'm going to keep you company."

"That's very sweet, Loks, but I don't want you staying up too late past your bedtime. How about I read you a bedtime story? If you fall asleep, I'll bring you upstairs. I promise to go to bed after that."

Draco came home just after midnight to find his wife and son curled up on the couch, both fast asleep. With the help of a Levitation Spell, he carried them upstairs and tucked them in.


	34. Rendons-nous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione have the most interesting dinner date.

This was very odd.

They were sitting in a restaurant. Together. And mayhem had not ensued.

The shock of her relationship with Draco had worn off, finally; people in the streets had stopped staring—at least, they made their incredulity more discreet—and The Burrow crowd was almost used to having him amongst them on Sundays. Sunday brunch had always been a family affair for the Weasleys, but after the terrible losses suffered by the entire wizarding world during the Second War, Mrs. Weasley made Sunday brunch mandatory. You had to have a solid, practically Unbreakable reason to miss Sundays.

And it was at last Sunday's gathering that Ginny had proposed dinner.

Ginny had pointed out that the six of them would be spending the rest of their lives in close proximity—and yes, even though Ron and Susan had only been going out for two months, she could sense that this was to be her future sister-in-law—so they may as well get used to the idea and try to establish ties now, before any children came along. It wouldn't be fair for the offspring to see the parents behave like strangers to one another. Besides, she'd already threatened both Harry and Ron with physical harm if they misbehaved.

Hermione had to give her two best friends credit: they'd been sitting here for half-hour now, but not once had they glared at, provoked, or ignored Draco. In fact, they were so civil that she had to remind herself not to stare at them in turn. 

As for Draco, well, he was a Malfoy. He may have been conditioned to have an over-developed sense of preservation that caused him to flee at the first sign of life-threatening danger—and who, honestly, would really want to stick around to be a target for Voldemort and his Death Eaters?—but he had always stubbornly refused to back down when it came to Harry and Ron. Ever since they'd sat down, he had draped an arm ever so casually, gracefully, and possessively across her shoulders, leaning against the back of the banquette as if he were in the comfort of his parent's drawing room. He'd even proceeded to play with her curls. Men will always be boys.

She tried to ignore his distracting fingers and focus on the conversation that Ginny and Susan had kept up. Ron was too enamoured with holding hands under the table to be of much help, and she noticed Harry wince more than once when an elbow or ankle hit their target. Nevertheless, if the men were not eloquent or capable of instigating new topics, at least they had enough sense, with encouragement, to upkeep the conversation that their girlfriends started. 

She wondered if they would ever reach a level of comfortable ease.

The food arrived, and the conversation momentarily ceased as everyone sampled their dishes. She and Draco automatically exchanged bites of their own choices, and she saw the other two pairs do the same. She caught Ron's eye and winked teasingly and was rewarded with a flush that spread down to his neck. Susan winked back, her eyes pointedly noting that Draco's arm was now wrapped around her waist and he had leaned his frame against hers for support, eating with one hand. Not to be outdone, Ginny used her fork to feed Harry his next bite, sticking out her tongue at him when he realized he was on display.

Their steaming entrees followed and exchanges once again were made.

"So, Potter, Weasley, Quidditch playoffs begin next Saturday. Care to join me? The family box is available—I made sure to ask my mother for its use before she went on holiday."

Hermione nearly choked on her salmon. Her amazement was mirrored in Harry's and Ron's eyes, though they were quicker to recover and confirm their acceptance. She felt a bubble of happiness expand inside her, but she knew she'd embarrass him with any overt display of affection, so she gently squeezed his thigh and felt his fingers tighten around her waist in response.

Knowing that Ginny would love the chance to see the national team play and get tips to improve her own game, Hermione archly asked if the invitation extended to the girls. Draco mockingly responded that his bachelor days were truly over now that he couldn't even watch Quidditch without the ball-and-chain tagging along. She shocked the table when she riposted that Voldemort was dead. He winced at the name, but he recovered sufficiently to muse that their party would be so much more fun if expanded—perhaps he should ask his Slytherin cronies to join them. It'd be like an informal Hogwarts reunion. It would only be a Hogwarts reunion if all the Houses were represented, she reminded. Oh, didn't she know? Nott was dating one of the Ravenclaws, didn't remember her name at present, the blonde with the large radish earrings. Now, she was truly speechless. 

Susan mischievously commented that Draco should pay attention next time to see if Luna constantly checked on Nott's ears. Apparently, she was making it her project to date all wizards who may be infested with Wrackspurts—it was why they were so shy around women. Ginny quipped that it would explain why Luna had dated Neville during her sixth year. Draco replied that, in that case, he should tell Nott to take a fire bath to smoke out the Wrackspurt, seeing as how that seemed to have cured Longbottom.

Hermione only had a chance to look appreciatively at her dessert when it was whisked away and replaced with Draco's. At her indignant look, he reminded her that he hated red sauces; they had both ordered a chocolate dessert, and it was not as if they didn't always share, but he certainly would much prefer looking at a green-plated one. Call it a personal preference. In response to her muttered references to Slytherins and fastidiousness, he whispered something in her ear that made her blush a deep Gryffindor red. Her huff and sharp elbowing of his ribs only caused her friends to snort louder. She only managed to wipe the smug look off his face when she smiled her sweet, guileless smile and batted her lashes. She thought Harry would need artificial resuscitation, the way he choked on his treacle tart.

As they said their goodbyes outside the restaurant, Hermione saw Draco confirm plans for the Quidditch playoffs with Harry and Ron while she hugged Susan. After the three pairs parted ways, she snuggled into Draco's arms before they Apparated to her front door.


	35. Mooned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna's life continues to astound Hermione.

"Hermione, you won't believe this!"

"What?"

"Luna's dating Cormac McLaggen!"

" _What?!_ "

"Yeah, Ginny told me. The Harpies had a match with the Canons, and she saw them leave together, hand-in-hand!"

"McLaggen plays for the Canons? Can his ego take the failure?"

"Well, apparently, they were desperate enough to want anyone with any talent, and he's been dismissed from three other teams now because of said ego."

"Hmph. Why am I not surprised? But still, Luna and Cormac?"

"I know."

***

"Hello, My-own..."

"Malfoy, we need to talk."

"I didn't do it!"

"You sound just like Harry and Ron when they're cornered by Molly."

"Reflex! I'm always in trouble when you call me 'Malfoy'—even bigger trouble than 'Draco Malfoy' or 'you arrogant git'."

"Well, you won't be in trouble unless you don't respond to my questions in a satisfactory manner. Now, why is Luna dating Cormac McLaggen?"

"She likes arrogant gits?"

"Until recently, she's been going through your list of Slytherin friends. And I see those looks and high-fives you give each other whenever she goes out with a new one. And now it's McLaggen's turn. What is going on?" 

"Well, Luna's always been very unique, and the guys just got tired of the usual pure-blood girlfriend, and..."

"Don't make me hex you..."

"All right, all right! There's a rumour going around that since she dated Longbottom, she must be easy, so the guys have a bet going on about who can, um, bed her first. So far, no one's been a winner. They're all still recovering. I guess McLaggen caught wind of it, and he must've figured he'd one-up the guys, and so... Hey! I told you the truth! You said you wouldn't hex if I told the truth! Ow!"

"And you didn't think to tell me about this?"

"Why the hell would I— _ow_! See, that's precisely why I haven't told you! I'm not even in the bet, and I'm treated like a punching bag. You have friends, too, so you should understand the concept of loyalty in friendship."

"You mean, you call that mutually-exploitative relationship you have with them 'friendship'?"

"Yes, I do! And don't tell me you have a completely altruistic relationship with Potty—Potter and Weasley. I saw how you and Ginny ganged up on Potter to get him to host that fundraiser."

"It was for a good cause!"

"Mutually-exploitative relationship. Your words."

"Hmph! Well, I'd better hold a girls' luncheon soon and warn Luna about what's going on!"

"Hey, she managed to date all the Slytherins without coming to harm! I'm sure she can take care of herself."

"Slytherins have a sense of self-preservation and know to back down before making fools of themselves. I don't care about McLaggen, but I know he isn't one to back down, so if Luna gets hurt in any way..."

"Speaking from personal experience, love?"

"No! I mean—he's stubborn!"

"So are all Gryffindors. Ow!"

"Don't want to be a punching bag, stop giving me reasons."

"I love you."

"You—! I can't _believe_ you just did that!"

He wrapped his arms around her waist to bring her closer. "I love you."

"Draco, stop that! I— _mmmppphh_!"

***

"You look a little stunned, love. Something happen at work?"

"No...ot exactly. I—Cormac paid me a visit yesterday. I've never seen him so confused... and—and humbled. He says he's been having very, er, _long_ sessions in bed with Luna, and it's exhausted him. I told him to have a talk with her about this. I wasn't going to involve myself further, but Luna brought it up today at luncheon. She says she noticed that he was infested by Snarflaps and the long sessions were the most suitable healing method because if the Snarflaps got mixed with his sperm, he'd be impotent for the rest of his life. She assured us that she took the antidote for Snarflap poison and has a permanent Contraception Charm, so no need to be concerned about any unexpected pregnancies. Now, care to tell me what that 'Yes!' meant and why you're looking so smug?"

"Nothing, it's nothing."

"Malfoy..."

"I had a bet going with the guys, and I won. I said that McLaggen would succeed where they failed but only after he'd been reformed. He's reformed all right."

"Well, I don't know about reformed, but I bet this is the most unusual relationship he's ever had. I asked Luna about future children. She says she doesn't plan on having any because she treats all the creatures that she's rescued as her children. She's told every single guy on the first date that she wasn't having children, but they were free to find another witch to bear them if they wanted any. That way, they'd each have their own projects—she with her creatures, he with his children—and they wouldn't have a fight over how they spent their time apart."

"That—that's—I guess I'm old-fashioned. I couldn't fathom such an arrangement."

"I guess I should be glad you think that—I'd hate an arrangement like that, too."

"So, we're raising our children together?"

"We'd better—no refunds, you know."

"Guess I should cancel the appointment with the orphanage."

"Prat."


	36. Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week in the life of dramione...

Friday

"Your soup's ready now, sweetie. How are you feeling?"

"My body's shivering, but my head's like a volcano. And my nose is stuffy, my throat burns, and I think I'm going to die!"

"Silly goose, you can't die from the flu. Here, have some soup. I'll prop you up with some extra pillows. There, now eat slowly."

"Ow! I burned my tongue!"

"It just came from the pot, darling. You know you should blow on it first."

"But my lungs are sore from coughing, and I can't breathe properly."

"Would you like me to feed it to you?"

"Yes."

"Open wide. Good boy!"

"Are those peas? I don't like peas!"

"You've hardly eaten anything since you got sick; your body needs food to help it fight the infection. Now, stop whining and drink your soup, or I'm going to stop feeding you."

"Can I have some ice cream afterward?"

"No, that'll just make you cough—remember yesterday?"

"But I always get ice cream when I'm sick!"

"No, you don't. You only got it the one time because you threw such a tantrum your father was afraid you'd fall and hurt yourself."

"The soup's getting cold."

"That's because you wasted your time whining about it. You know, you act even more immature when you're sick than the children. It's a good thing they're staying with Grandma and Grandpa this week: I don't want them picking up these bad habits from you. How your mother put up with you is beyond me."

"But I'm sick!"

"You're also over thirty and Head of your department."

"You love me, I know you do."

"I may have to reconsider that."

"When I'm better, we can take that trip to Prague that you've been talking about for ages now."

"Finish your soup first. We'll negotiate after."

 

Monday

"I told you."

"You know, you can be such a harpy sometimes. Ow!"

"People in pain shouldn't insult their Healers."

"But the hat makes me look completely ridiculous!"

"And you don't look ridiculous now? You're as red as a lobster, and your shoulders are already starting to peel!"

"It was only for half an hour!"

"Did you forget that we're in southern France? Why do you think I've been so reluctant to show more skin like the other women on the beach? And your skin has always been paler than mine."

"Well, I guess that means we're staying in tomorrow. Good thing I was wearing shorts."

"Your legs haven't fared any better than your upper body."

"True, but my vital organs are intact. So, as long as I lie on my back, we can still have fun. Hey! What are you—"

"Well, I certainly don't want you to aggravate your already sensitive skin through accidental chafing, so I think, for what we're about to do, it's safer to secure you to the bed..."

 

Saturday

"Hello, darling."

"Mmmppphh? Oh, you're home. Have a good time?"

"Yes. The Girls send their regards. Are the children asleep?"

"Yes, and if you'd gotten home any later, I'd be asleep on the couch, too."

"It's barely ten o'clock!"

"Those little monsters just never slowed down for a minute! Oh, don't bother about the dresser in the nursery. I'll fix it tomorrow."

"What were they doing with it?"

"Climbed the drawers to jump off the top onto the bed. Amazing they didn't break their necks. I just turned around for a moment because the Crookmeister hadn't gotten his supper! And he hid in his corner of the library and sulked. I only just got him to stop hissing at me after I put the monsters to bed and gave him a half-hour rub."

"My poor Daddy-kins."

"Why don't they seem so wild when you're around?"

"They know I mean it when I say 'No'. You should try it sometime. You can do it at work, and you certainly have elevated it to an art dealing with Harry and Ron. The other thing you need to remember is to stop giving them too many sweets."

"It was just some Frogs."

"How many?"

"Lost count."

"Draco!"

"They were running around. I had to make sure they didn't hurt themselves! Can't keep track of snacks _and_ them."

"Next time I'm over at my parents', I'm stocking up on the sugar-free snacks."

"Yea _mmmnnnrrrzzzzzz_..."

"All right, you overgrown Dragonet, let's get you to bed."

 

Wednesday

Hermione was at her wit's end. It was a good thing the children were in school: she wasn't sure she had enough energy to handle five. But enough was enough. It had already been three months. Surely, _surely_ a person would show some signs of recovery. She sympathized, she did, but his moping was just driving her to distraction. They had not had an actual conversation in who knows how long.

And so, she left a note that she and Crookshanks were going shopping and there was warm food on the table whenever he felt like eating.

When they returned, she could tell that he had not set foot outside the library, so she crept in. Sighing in exasperation at the sight of him curled up on the divan, she put her packages on the desk and switched on the lamp. Draco grumbled at the sudden brightness. Before he could put his back to the source, Hermione forced a Pepper-Up Potion down his throat. After he stopped choking, he glared. She kissed him. His glare softened. She kissed him again. He kissed back.

"Draco, I know you're upset about Giauzar. I've lost loved ones, too, so I know how it feels. But I'm really worried about you. You're making yourself sick. So, I got you a little present. I know you don't think you're ready, but it was Crookshanks' idea. I was just going to get the Pepper-Up Potion and some new books, but he insisted that we look in the shop. Anyway, I hope you like what we chose."

She brought over the largest of her packages, an oval-like shape wrapped in cloth. Removal of the cloth revealed a startled owl. It blinked its pink lids, ruffled its feathers, then hooted at Draco. Hermione opened the cage door, and the owl hopped onto Draco's forearm. He petted the owl and was rewarded with another hoot. Hermione wisely left them to get acquainted. 

Over the next few days, Hermione was pleased to see Draco slowly get back to his normal activity level. His snark and wit were still missing, but he began to observe his surroundings again. And he spent a lot of time with his new pet. By week's end, she was pleased to once again be the recipient of frequent caresses and nuzzles. That night, she asked him what name he had decided on.

"Mercury."

"That's a nice name. Did you choose it for his colouring?"

"No. I named Giauzar after myself because I was a vain, selfish prat. Mercury's the Romanized version of Hermes. I named him after you."

 

Tuesday

She knew that she would have to face them sooner or later. So, during one of her visits with Narcissa, she asked if she could be introduced to the family. Narcissa was surprised at first, but she quickly acquiesced, and, as evident from the tips and anecdotes that she supplied—to better fortify the young witch against the inevitable inquisition—while she led Hermione to the large room of portraits, she was pleased that her future daughter-in-law was being so proactive.

Brave though she was, Hermione couldn't help feeling uncomfortable being stared out of countenance by so many eyes. There had been a steady hum of voices ever since she entered the room. Thoughts of Draco kept her head held high and her temper in check.

Narcissa waited patiently for the murmur to die down before formally introducing Hermione.

The cacophony was quickly silenced by an austere witch with a patrician nose, who commented that, despite her slight figure, the young witch had nice hips, a good sign of fertility. A wizard with mutton chops retorted that even if the chit had whale hips, it didn't detract from the fact that the bloodline was being sullied. Another wizard, peering at Hermione from a monocle, said that she looked intelligent enough, and they must all keep in mind that her breed were the ones in power now, so they may as well forget all talk of purity and focus on how to restore the family's prestige. Several ancestors concurred, pointing out how the family several generations ago had allowed a pure-blood American into the family because they needed her father's wealth to restore the coffers. A witch in Marie-Antoinette attire pointed out that Draco had chosen the set of rings that had belonged to her, and didn't the pink sapphire look gorgeous on the new bride-to-be's hand?

And so it went on for a while.

Hermione bided her time and looked upon them with a rather amused expression. When she was pointedly asked what she had to say for herself, Hermione began talking as if she was speaking to the immobile Lucius. She talked about how the need to rebuild their shattered world had brought together wizards of all classes, all of them willing to overlook their differences to bring order and peace to the entire community. She made mention that the Ministry was slowly changing some of its more archaic laws so that creatures once considered half-breeds, like the centaurs, or non-human, like the werewolves, giants, and house-elves, were given better protection and rights. She had not yet succeeded in freeing the house-elves from enslavement, but she had come to understand that they truly did enjoy their work. Therefore, she was working to ensure that laws would be passed that prevented their ill-treatment by their owners. She casually mentioned that Draco supported her in this pursuit, and Narcissa smilingly voiced her own approval for the cause.

Hermione then warmly praised Draco for the initiatives he was taking to regain the family honour and lessen the prejudice the whole wizarding world had against former Death Eaters. She knew that they were shocked to learn that he had seemingly lowered himself by taking a paid position as a consultant of the Ministry. She pointed out that those of the elite, in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds, had always earned their living, just in a different form: from Medieval times, the landed had collected rent from tenants; the wealthy in Victorian times maintained their livelihood through enterprising and industry; and while Lucius had not collected a formal salary during his term as a Governor of Hogwarts, she was sure that he did gain other perks from the job. As consultant, Draco was not a minion but a free agent, able to choose what jobs he would do for the Ministry and having the flexibility to pursue his own interests. She made mention that Draco had been a great asset to the Aurors on several occasions because of his knowledge of Potions; the Aurors were, of course, amassing a huge collection of Dark artifacts from the residences of convicted Death Eaters, and some of the junior members would have come to serious harm while handling certain objects if they hadn't been forewarned and taught to look for signs of poisoning and poison-related hexes.

Narcissa chimed in to tell them what she was learning from Hermione about Muggle medicine. According to their research, the lack of fertility among the pure-bloods could be easily explained as the result of severe inbreeding within the small collection of families. Some of the more astute Healers at St. Mungo's had also been worrying over the issue. They were afraid that, in a few more generations, the ability to produce healthy, magical children would be severely compromised unless new blood was introduced. Hermione may have been born of Muggle parents, but the fact that she turned into a powerful witch—she finished Hogwarts at the top of the class, even though she'd had to take the expedited curriculum and the special N.E.W.T.s that the Ministry created for those of her year whose term was much interrupted by the Dark Lord's interferences—spoke volumes as to how beneficial it would be to have her as part of the family. Hermione blushed but knew better than to argue with Narcissa and "undermine" her in front of the ancestors.

Looking about, she could see some thoughtful, some still-disdaining looks. But the portraits were uniformly silent. Taking the cue from Narcissa, Hermione thanked the family for their attention and took leave of them. 

On their way back to the sitting room, Narcissa whispered that Hermione had made a wonderful impression. There weren't many who could get more than a few words in before being interrupted by one of the portraits. The fact that she could command their attention for a full fifteen minutes was quite the feat. Narcissa would be sure to inform Lucius and Draco of Hermione's unqualified success.

 

Thursday

"I don't know why you're so upset! I was punctual. I talked to people at the table. I didn't forget the manners my mother taught me; in fact, I distinctly remember Mrs. Weasley approving them."

"I don't believe you sometimes! Of all the arrogant, oblivious... You were punctual because I came, picked you up, and brought you there. Beyond salutations, you talked about the weather to them! The closest thing you came to a conversation with anyone was to argue over Quidditch with the boys; and I know you purposely ribbed Ron about the Cannons losing again. As for your manners, you've been so conditioned your whole life that I'd be astounded if you couldn't behave like a civilized person at the table—I've seen you pull off those same manners while drunk, so that doesn't count!"

"Did I do anything to make them kick me out?"

"No, but—"

"Did I do anything in particular to embarrass you?"

"Not exactly, although—"

"Did I end up hexing people or being threatened with hexes?"

"No..."

"So, again, I don't know why you're so upset!"

"Draco, it's not that I don't know you're trying, and it's not that I don't appreciate you taking the effort, but if you think just showing your face at Sunday Brunch is going to endear you to the Weasleys and their extended clan, then you've got a ways to go yet. It's not about showing up and being civil. Yes, you were civil, but you were _condescendingly_ so. Even if it was subconscious, you still think that you're better than them. You talked _at_ them, not _with_ them. You never once made the attempt to learn something new about them or show any interest in their hobbies, unless you happen to like those activities. You never once volunteered information about yourself. Did you notice that any questions they had about us—how things are, what sorts of dates we've been on, how we spend time together—were all directed at me? They could easily have asked you as well as me, but they didn't because it didn't seem like you would give a response if they asked you directly."

"I really fucked up, didn't I?"

"No, I wouldn't say that. You don't realize it because you're so used to interacting with your friends and your parents' circle of acquaintances. Draco, I'm not upset with you because you didn't live up to whatever expectations you think I have. It's not that. I know who you really are. I want _them_ to get to know the real you, too. I want them to realize that, just like me, they have preconceived notions of who you are, based on your parentage and how things were when we were at Hogwarts and then during the war. I want them to like you for you, not to just tolerate you because we're dating. And vice versa."

"Well, they do seem like a nice enough bunch, now that we gotten the whole interhouse rivalry thing out of the way."

"So kind of you."

"I'm sorry; it's easy for you because you've known them for years and they love you. Potter wasn't exactly treating me like his best mate, either. Not that I expected it, but he put in as much effort as I did. Weasley was civil because most of the time, he just pretended that I didn't exist. The only one who truly didn't hold my past against me was Luna. But you should know that it's not exactly easy to hold a conversation with her. But we'll forget all that. I meant what I said when I told you I'll give my best go at trying to establish ties with them. I just need more time. And apparently a different personality."

"No you don't. You're just fine when you don't let your pride get in the way. I know they're still holding your past against you. But I guess that's why I got a bit carried away with wanting you to prove them wrong. I'm sorry. We'll take things slowly. Just one Sunday at a time?"

"Does it have to be every Sunday?"

"Shall we compromise on one Sunday a month? Of course, you'll have to accept that special occasions arise, and we'll have to be there for those."

"Fine. By the way, Pansy invited us over for tea Saturday. And she wants us to dress up like plants."

"Pansy and her themed tea parties... Very well, you're Devil's Snare and I'm Venus Flytrap."

"I love how your evil mind works."

"It's rubbing off of my evil boyfriend."

"Your sexy, evil boyfriend?"

"Only when his kisses make me weak in the knees."

"I think we can easily arrange that."

 

Sunday

It was the day after the Spring Equinox. As they had arranged, Hermione and Draco awoke before dawn and bundled their three-month- old twins warmly before trudging to the site. When they arrived at Stonehenge, the first rays of dawn had started to pierce the sky. The air was crisp and still. They watched as dawn broke in all its glory. Being creatures of routine, the twins were alert by seven o'clock. They looked about in confusion but did not fuss. Hermione and Draco knew that they had only about half an hour's grace before the hunger pangs turned their darlings into banshees.

The locals had passed down a tale that children presented at the sacred site between the second and sixth months of their lives would lead blessed lives if they could summon the spirits. Although the powers of the site would have been more enhanced on the Equinox, Hermione had agreed that it would be best to attempt the ritual when there were no Muggles present. They had come the day before, of course, in hopes of learning more about the ritual, since their research could not elucidate on the specifics—either the knowledge was now lost or the gathered elders and parents were simply expected to try their luck—but nothing out of the ordinary happened when some of the other wizard parents had attempted, much to their disappointment and the confusion of the non-magical visitors.

All that they knew was that they had to sing. And so, they tried a few folk songs. Nothing. They tried the two Celtic hymns that Hermione had come across in her research. Nothing.

Emma began to squirm, so, to distract her, Draco began singing some of her favourite tunes. She chuckled. Her chuckles echoed.

Draco continued singing, and Lachlan chimed in with his distinctive giggle. The echoing got louder.

The places with missing stones suddenly filled. Stonehenge looked as it must have when newly consecrated. The children's astonished laughter reverberated, their volume escalating with each echo. Above the hum, a chant arose. The music became so loud that it was almost painful to the ears. The twins protested, and the music gradually faded. Pleased, they chattered incoherently to their excited parents, who kissed them soundly and brought them back to the Manor for breakfast.

_Monday's child is fair of face,_  
_Tuesday's child is full of grace,_  
_Wednesday's child is full of woe,_  
_Thursday's child has far to go,_  
_Friday's child is loving and giving,_  
_Saturday's child works hard for a living,_  
_But the child who is born on the Sabbath Day_  
_Is bonny and blithe and good and gay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> draco's new pet is a Verreaux's eagle owl. although i don't think the books specified, i assumed his original owl was the typical Eurasian eagle owl.


	37. Hoodwink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy have a chat with Mr. and Mrs. Lucius Malfoy.

"Oh, Narcissa! Lucius! We're so sorry for—see, I _told_ you we shouldn't've just Apparated into... Draco, what are you doing? Stop pulling... _ooof!_ "

Draco had pulled her toward the sofa and put her on his lap, in a precise mirror image of his parents. Lucius nonchalantly smiled his greeting to them. Narcissa's cheeks were tinged pink, and she glared at her husband when she was kept firmly in place.

"Hello, Father, Mother. So, Father, can I expect that little brother or sister that you had promised me?" He ignored his mother's outrage and his wife's chest-slap.

"Well, son, I hate to disappoint you, but now that you have made me a grandfather, my fathering days are over. It wouldn't do for Lachlan and Emma to have to refer to someone younger as their uncle or aunt. Besides, I would not be too confident in my youthful folly, if I were you. I'm terribly grateful that I can still please your mother at my age. Great-Aunt Petula devised a powerful spell that would render her husband impotent whenever she chose—usually when she was in a rage over his perceived infidelities. She was the most jealous bride to ever grace the family. And she has passed down that knowledge to whichever bride or daughter was in need of it. I've always wondered where they meet, the women. Of course, they are all quite mum on that subject."

"You mean there are secrets about the manse that elude you, Father?"

"Oh, I would never presume to know everything about the Manor. I doubt any of our forefathers could, even if we were to sit and have a discussion on it. For one thing, many of the spouses do not have portraits; and secrets only the lady of the manse knows are passed down verbally. I only learned of the impotence spell by chance one night when your great-uncle Claudius was worried enough after a particularly volatile argument your mother and I had."

"Just be thankful that your father was sincere enough in his timely apology, else you would not be sitting here in all your insolence, Draco Malfoy."

"I love you, Mummy! _Ow!_ You're so abusive! Do you ever see Mother use Father as a punching bag?"

"Your mother has other, more cruel and subtle ways to punish your poor father, son. You're lucky, indeed, to be sitting here."

"Cir—Shelob's sadistic spawn! I could've died without knowing that!"

"Your own fault for teasing your parents in the first place, you prat."

"Oh, the endearing names my loving wife gives me."

"She has a nasty right hook, too, in case you forgot. The demure little girl who slapped you no longer exists."

"Demure?! I can think of many words to describe you, but that is and never was one of them!"

"Hermione is quite adept with a wand, my Dragonet, and though her knowledge of the impotence spell is only theoretical at present..."

"Father, I would love a glass of Ogden's. Shall we convene to the den?"

"Oh? Why not wait until after tea? It should be ready any moment now." Lucius chuckled at Draco's strickened look. "I suppose a small drink to refreshen ourselves could not hurt. If you will excuse us, my dears, I would like to spend some quality time with my only offspring."

When the men were safely out of earshot, Hermione whispered, "Narcissa, is there an impotence spell?"

"There isn't one, exactly, although Great-Aunt Petula was quite adept at potions and had a flare for the dramatic..."


	38. Deuce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seamus and Pansy are threatening to call off their wedding. Friends and family are begging another Gryffindor-Slytherin pair to be negotiators...

Hermione finally put away the bottle and burped Loks. She stared across at Seamus and Pansy, who had been silent ever since being told the purpose of their get-together. The two were sitting scowling and facing away from one another. Hermione sighed and looked at Draco. She sighed again. Only a Malfoy could affect such nonchalance with a baby tucked safely in the crook of his arm.

"Pansy, Seamus, I know it was a very underhanded thing to charm our owls into Portkeys and whisk you here without your consent, but you must know that we were given to understand you would not have come willingly, seeing as your family and your wedding party have failed to do so." (Seamus glared; Pansy did not even turn her head.) "You've had your disagreements in the past; in fact, I distinctly remember at least three occasions where you were adamant that things were over between you. Yet, you've worked things out, and now you're planning to get married. Surely there's nothing so dire that can't be resolved!"

The cold-shouldering continued. Seamus did seem a bit shame-faced, but he stubbornly refused to say a word, probably wanting his fiancée to speak first. Pansy still affected that she heard not a word. Hermione looked at Draco. He raised a mocking eyebrow, but, instead of attempting negotiations, he looked down at Emma and started playing with her until she giggled non-stop.

"That's my sweet girl! Now, does Daddy's little sweeting think she can cheer up grumpy Auntie Pansy? Yes, let's go and remind Auntie Pansy how to smile, shall we, _minou_?" Draco proceeded to unceremoniously thrust Emma into Pansy's arms.

Pansy gaped but couldn't resist a grin when Emma continued her stream of incomprehensible babbling. Emma accepted the kisses as her due and allowed herself to be snuggled against Auntie Pansy's soft silk blouse. She seemed displeased that Uncle Seamus was not paying similar homage to her—for he sat like one Petrified—and scolded him. Uncle Seamus came out of his dreamy stasis and wiggled her foot until she giggled.

"You can have one of those of your own to play with soon enough, but first, there are some issues about the wedding that need to be resolved." Both heads snapped up at Draco's drawling words. (Hermione hid her grin in Loks' curly head.) "Finnigan?"

"We... we couldn't agree on the colour scheme," Seamus grumbled. "Red and green are just too Christmas-y."

"And tacky," Pansy put in.

Hermione willed her eyes not to roll. "Well, what about green? Green for Slytherin and Ireland. And Pansy, remember how you said you liked that silver mesh material I'd used at one of my dinner parties? You could always get a gold one as the accent for the green. A bit of Irish gold to complement the main colour scheme."

Seamus and Pansy looked thunderstruck.

"Was that all? I somehow thought the issues would be more dire, like whether to seat former Death Eaters like my parents with the Weasleys, so as to promote interclass unity, or keep them segregated like we all were prior to the Dark Lord's defeat."

"Draco!"

"It's not an unusual dilemma. We fought over the seating arrangements, too, for the twins' celebration, remember?"

"Yes, but I wish you could phrase things with more tact. And might I remind you that we resolved that problem, just like I'm sure Seamus and Pansy can resolve whatever problems they still have with the planning of their wedding. Now, Pansy, what other things did you have difficulties agreeing on?"

"Tact doesn't exist in his vocabulary. It comes from being a spoiled only child all these years. I don't know how you put up with him sometimes."

"Same way all Gryffindors put up with Slytherins: with forebearance. And, in Hermione's case, plenty of hexes."

"Seamus, I really don't think—"

"Forebearance, is it? How noble of you to have to put up with me, then! Maybe if we called the whole thing off, you won't have to put up with anything—"

"She hexed Zabini in Fifth so badly that his girlfriend almost dumped him for his poor performance, Finnigan, so I wouldn't talk about hexes to Panse. And stop snarking at each other like a pair of badgers: you're upsetting my daughter." Indeed, Emma had started to fret. Draco grabbed her and began walking about the room to soothe her.

Hermione tried to steer things back to safer waters. "Pansy, you were about to tell us what other issue you were struggling with?"

"We don't have problems with the seating arrangements, seeing as my family aren't former Death Eaters." Pansy glared at the pacing Draco. "And Seamus and I rather thought your seating plan quite clever, so we've adopted it. We were arguing about the music for our first dance. Seamus wants some quick-paced Irish jig, but I couldn't possibly dance something like that with the gown and jewels and everything."

"It's tradition!"

"Your tradition, perhaps! And I told you why I couldn't agree. Don't you think my reason fair, Hermione?"

"Well, Seamus, it _is_ cumbersome to even move about in the gown. What about Pansy changing into something more practical afterwards? You can still have the dance to uphold tradition, but it just won’t be the first dance. Besides, many of the Irish are following the modern tradition of the first dance being the slow dance, so I’m sure your relatives won’t disapprove."

"Fine. But I get to choose the song!"

"I reserve the right to veto!"

Hermione intervened quickly. "What song did you have in mind, Seamus?"

"The last one we danced to at the Ministry fundraiser ball last year."

Pansy was surprised but not displeased. She nodded acceptance.

Hermione was very pleased with their progress. She felt that a small break would be beneficial and magicked the snack that she'd prepared from the kitchen. Draco had joined them again, having convinced Emma to take a short nap. Loks had been observing his daddy and sister as they roamed the room, and he was now impatient to get some exercise as well. Hermione was relieved that Emma did not stir during the exchange and leaned back into the sofa to maximize comfort for them both.

After seeing Seamus pour Pansy her second cup of tea, Hermione felt it safe to reconvene their discussion. She prompted Seamus.

"There's just the one about where to go for our honeymoon. I wanted to just relax on a beach somewhere in Italy or South France, but Panse wants to go sight-seeing and shopping in Paris."

"It's our honeymoon! We can sit on a beach anytime!"

"Well, you can also go shopping in Paris anytime. You've already been there twice this year to get your wedding clothes!"

"Fine, we'll skip the shopping. There's plenty to do in Paris in any case."

"Why do we have to do anything anyway? It's our honeymoon! You know, stay in bed, relax from the wedding stuff!"

"We can't stay in bed all day—"

"You underestimate his stamina, Panse. And if My-own's any indication of what Gryffindors are like in bed..."

"Draco, honeymoons don't revolve around sex, you know. And we didn't have sex _all_ the time either. We saw the monuments, visited the local marketplace, walked the museums—"

"Only because you dragged me everywhere with you! Finnigan's got the right idea: rest and relaxation for a week."

"If you're going to go somewhere new, you have to maximize on the experience!"

"We could've stayed at one of my parents' properties in France or even rented a hotel room somewhere and stayed in—would've worked for me!"

"Yeah! Listen to Malfoy! All that running around 'getting cultured' is just a bother! Room service, maybe dinner at the local pubs... I have simple needs."

"Well, sitting in a dimly-lit, smoke-filled hole full of drunkards is certainly not romantic! You men are always saying we kill the mood with incessant talking. Well, nothing kills the mood quite as effectively as a bunch of drunken men getting into brawls about who can drink the other under the table!"

"Agreed, Pansy. I can't believe you dragged Pansy to a pub, Seamus!"

"What? She said she wanted to see what it was like hanging out with the boys!"

"Well, you can hang out with the boys all you want— _on your own_ —from now on."

"You're a lucky man, Finnigan. I got suckered into shopping day with the girls. You definitely don't want to get talked into that. Ever."

"I did not drag you shopping that day! We were meeting for lunch; afterwards, you insisted on walking me to the store where I was meeting them. And _you_ were the one that wanted to see me in the dress in the window display!"

"I ended up seeing _all of you_ model that dress for me! I most certainly didn't ask for that! And the Weaslette looked horrible in the green. My poor eyes!"

"Ginny in green ain't the worst, Malfoy. Ever see that awful fuchsia and purple number that Panse's mum—"

"Oh, Merlin, don't remind me! Nearly burned off my eyeballs! Thank Morgana your tastes are better, Panse. Wouldn't've put up with you all these years, otherwise. Although that pink frilly thing you wore for your seventh birthday—"

"Pink? Pansy? But she hates pink! Never wears it!"

"That's because Draco and the other boys teased me about it, and when I threatened to not give them cake, they splattered me with mud!"

"Hahaha! Wish that I were there. Hey, Malfoy, got that memory to show me?"

"Show him, Draco, and I'm tell them what you said that one night when you got horribly drunk..."

"Easy, Panse! I'll keep that memory locked up. Sorry, Finnigan. But hey, if you ask Panse's mum for the photos from that birthday, I'm sure she has a picture of that pink disaster." 

"You, Draco Malfoy, are an unscrupulous bastard!"

"You forgot arrogant, sneaky, manipulative, and mean, Pansy."

"That makes you _Mrs._ Arrogant, Sneaky, Manipulative, and Mean."

"So you admit to those things!"

"It's not a Malfoy thing, either. All men boast about their short-comings. I don't know why they think that's attractive."

"We don't boast about our short-comings! We just accept and respect who we are. You women are forever wanting to change us into something we're not."

"And what's wrong with trying to make you into a better person, Seamus? I think Pansy's done a marvellous job curbing that temper of yours."

"And you've made Draco just civilized enough to be functional around normal people. It's truly a feat, Hermione. And don't think my 'just' is a criticism of you; that you could civilize him at all is a miracle!"

"You know, I've just about had it being insulted in my own home and with my wife taking an active part in it. What say we round up some men for a game of Quidditch, Finnigan? We'll leave the women to sort out the rest of the tedious wedding details."

"You're on, Malfoy! I'll see if Ron's free—he has access to the Canons' pitch, being one of their few fans..."

"Draco, are you forgetting something?"

"No, my broom and all my equipment are in my study, like always. I was just going to grab them."

"And how were you going to secure your son to your body and protect him?"

"Oh. Right. You go to Auntie Pansy, my boy. Your Mummy thinks you're too young to be flying with Daddy. But don't worry, once you can walk, I'm getting you your first broom."

"Draco, we discussed this! We are _not_ —"

"He likes being on a broom! Just the other day, Potter and Weasley were teasing that it's his Gryffindor spirit showing—"

"Oh, so you'll agree with Harry and Ron when it comes to danger and going behind my back when I specifically told you I didn't want Loks—"

"Forget it, Hermione. There's no point reasoning with boys about brooms and Quidditch. I grew up with male cousins. Just dress Emma up in red and gold every day for a month."

"Panse! You—"

"Better yet, since Loks is showing such Gryffindor spirit, dress _him_ in red and gold for a month."

"Why, you—you—"

"Calm it, Malfoy. You know what her tongue's like. How 'bout this: when she births a son, preferably with blond hair and freckles, you can be his godfather and show him all the tricks to rebel against his mum."

"Seamus Finnigan—"

"Deal! You go on and gather your crew, Finnigan. We'll meet at Potter's."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to withdrawnred for introducing this rare pair to me!


	39. Grangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Draco are having dinner with her parents.

"Draco, come in!"

"Hello, Charmaine. Did you have a safe flight?"

"Uneventful, so, perfect. Is Hermione joining us later or is she sleeping overnight again at the Ministry because of some deadline?"

"Draco, you're here! And Hermione's not! Why am I not surprised?"

"Hello, Edmund. I was just saying to Charmaine that she doesn't have any deadline, so she's coming, but she Owled to say she just had a few things to tidy up before joining us—I made her promise not to miss dinner this time."

"That girl—I'm glad both of you went for those cooking lessons. At least neither of you will starve while waiting for the other. Any new assignments lately, Draco?"

"Oh, just some odd things here and there. Potter and his bunch are still busy rounding up people and artifacts, so I've been asked to join on some of those. How was the trip?"

"Oh, Australia's as beautiful as always! If it weren't for you kids and the practice, we would've stayed there. Charme and I are still planning to spend six months there and the rest here once we retire, but that's in the future. Meantime, we'll just visit as often as we can! Must say, the government sure chose the wrong place to send all their criminals! If they were wizards like you, they could've moved London to Sydney and left the prisoners here—now that would be punishment!"

"Edmund!"

"I've been reading up on Mug—recent history, Edmund. I don't know if having London in Australia would've helped with both World Wars. Hard to communicate with allies over such long distances. And with World War II, there would've been a much higher chance that the Japanese would've bombed Australia instead of the United States. Might've been quite a different outcome."

"Well, you've got me there, Draco. Still, can't deny that the Australians have the better deal when it comes to weather. Anything new with Quidditch?"

"None. They're all gearing up for the World Cup, of course, but we're still several months away. You've cleared your calendar, though?"

"Been clear since you gave me the tickets! That reminds me: my classmate Bill asked if I could make use of his pair of tickets for the cricket match next weekend—some family emergency—interested?"

"I'd love to!"

"Well, since you boys have things all planned, I'd better see if I can coax Hermione to spend some time with me—ah, that must be her now!"

Hermione stepped out of the fireplace. "Mum! Daddy! Did you have a good time?"

"'Course we did! Draco and I are watching cricket next weekend, Farthings, so you'd better clear your schedule and spend time with your mum."

"Actually, I was going to ask if you were free then, Mum, because there's a recital at the Royal Albert."

"Another new cellist, dear?"

"A new piano trio. The 'papers have been raving about them."

"That sounds lovely, dear."

"You know, if you took up your cello again, you, your Mum, and I could do a recital ourselves at the Royal Albert."

"Very funny, Daddy! Don't you remember that disastrous 'concert' at Aunt Millie's when I was eight? I still haven't gotten the feel for jazz, you know."

"Blame your Mum. If it wasn't for that teacher of yours—"

"He was very highly recommended. And don't forget that she wanted to play like Jacqueline du Pre, so a classical teacher was what she needed."

"You play the cello, My-own? You never told me!"

"I haven't played for years. I stopped lessons after I got my letter to Hogwarts, and I just never found time to practise after that."

"Do you play any instruments, Draco? Strange, I never thought to ask you!"

"My mother put me through violin and piano lessons—those were the acceptable ones for pure-blood boys—but I never liked them. I must've gone through half the orchestra before she finally allowed me vocal lessons. I'd always loved singing, and she was finally convinced when I didn't embarrass her at the annual Christmas party that she hosted that year."

"He has a wonderful voice, Mum. You should hear him sing Schubert's _Lieder_."

"You'll have to sing for us sometime, then, Draco. I take it you prefer the Romantics?"

"I do. Less rigid than the older forms, especially Baroque, although Mozart does have some wonderfully fun pieces, of course."

"Yet another Classisist against me! But I'm not giving up! You've got to let me introduce you to jazz, Draco. If you hate structure, then jazz is about as liberating as you can get without completely losing musicality, like some of those modern pieces that sound like animals raiding the trash."

"Edmund! Stop badgering Draco into taking sides! You're the only one who thinks there's some sort of competition going on. Hermione enjoys jazz as well, you know that."

"We'll join you for the jazz festival this year, Daddy. I've been introducing Draco to the music I grew up with, and he's really taken an interest."

"Jazz was quite an eye-opener, for sure, and I needed some time to adjust to the concept. But when I thought about it, it really was a natural progression, in many ways, from the Romantic movement. It's developed into its own unique form, of course, but you must see that it had its roots in the Theme and Variations that composers like Beethoven really explored and expanded."

"Well, I suppose, although—"

"You've always liked Beethoven better than all the other composers, Daddy. 'A rebel of his time', you called him."

"It's getting late, so we should hold off the discussion for another time. Anyone with suggestions about where we should go for dinner? Draco, do you have any preferences?"

"Hermione has reservations at the French restaurant for eight-thirty, Charmaine. I'm sure they would be willing to fit us in if we go now, seeing as you and Edmund are regular customers."

"Yes, let's go now. I'm starving! Come, Draco!"

Hermione and Charmaine smiled at one another. "Boys!"


	40. Cramp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione hits a snag at work and discovers that magic can't solve all problems.

Draco observed his irate wife as she stomped into the kitchen. He saw her take out the herbal tea. Hard day at work. She then took out the frozen chocolate cake from the icebox. Uh-oh. Someone or someones really pissed her off.

He cautiously placed a few kisses on her neck. She leaned against him. OK. Good. He wasn't in trouble.

"Want to talk about it?"

"After the cake. Want some?"

He declined.

When she finished, she ranted. The problem with magic was that it was all or nothing. Spells either worked or they didn't. And the Ministry's bureaucracy was a personification of this. She always thought that the paperwork her parents had to deal with (especially after they returned from Australia) was bad, but it was child's play compared to the wrangling she had to do to get approval—for ballpoint pen and paper! It was the Heads of Departments that wanted them, having fallen in love with them at the recent meeting with the British Muggle government to improve relations. But the clerks at the International Magical Trading Standards Body office kept sending memos about new paperwork to be completed and approved. It was ridiculous! If she didn't know better, she'd think they were Vogons in disguise, attempting to infiltrate the Ministry!

She stopped in mid-rant, a surprised look on her face. She clutched her stomach. Alarmed, Draco asked if the babies were all right.

She grabbed his hands and placed them on her bump. His eyes widened as well.

"They moved!"

Her anger was forgotten as both excitedly awaited the next ripple of movement.

The following day, Draco went to consult Edmund. Then, he went to Harry's office. A few days later, a package of stationery with "International Magical Trading Standards Body" printed on top was sent along with a box of black ballpoint pens to the Body's office; the accompanying note read, "Compliments of the Auror's office".

A week later, the Body approved Hermione's paperwork.


	41. Quidditch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione pleasantly surprises the boys by organizing a game of Quidditch.

"'Mione, are you sure this is a good idea? This is looking more and more like the Quidditch Cup matches in school."

"That's the whole point, Gin. Haven't you noticed how carefully polite they've been to one another whenever we get together? Sunday Brunch, especially. My teeth actually hurt just thinking about how much sugar-coating they're exuding. It's not healthy for them and definitely won't be for us when they finally explode. I'd rather they vent out any frustrations through Quidditch than making a scene on a Sunday or during some Ministry function."

"You've got a good point, Hermione! Uh-oh, it's starting already!"

"Ouch! That's got to hurt! I don't remember Fred ever playing that rough, Angelina, not even against the Slytherins."

"George is special. They may be twins and run a successful business together, but doesn't mean they don't fight. I don't know about you, Alicia, but I've been hearing some grumbling recently about work."

"Just recently? I'm surprised they haven't tried to kill each other yet! Putting them on opposite teams is a great idea, Hermione—thanks!"

"Boys will be boys."

"Never a truer phrase, Luna."

"Oh, yes! You show him, darling! What do you have to say now, you overgrown ego! You should use that inflated head to block the Quaffle, Cormac; get _some_ use out of it, since you obviously can't defend your goalposts otherwise!"

"From the way she talks, you'd never know that Pansy and Cormac are second cousins."

"Silly, they're all cousins or some such. Well, except Dean."

"Speaking of which, is he still dating Daphne Greengrass?"

"Oh, they broke up after the double date with Seamus and me. Daph's parents don't want a 'poor, starving artist' for a son-in-law."

"More like they don't want a Muggle-born to taint the family tree."

"I hear he's been getting cozy with a Ravenclaw from Ginny's year; know anything about that, Ginny?"

"I don't! I'll see if Lisa Goldstein knows—she does the society pages for _Witch Weekly_ and always seems to know who's with whom."

"Goldstein? Oh, Anthony's wife. I forgot they are married!"

"Go Neville! Wow, who would've guessed he had such aggression! Guess the title of 'Nagini's Bane' really does have merit!"

"Oh, Neville's always been braver than he lets on. You should hear the antics he got up to with Gin and Luna during Seventh. And I imagine becoming a father of twins has greatly boosted his confidence."

"Agree! You've done a great job with him, Padma."

"No, no, it's all his own merit. It also helps that his gran respects him now, too. She declared him the head of the family when we got married."

"Goal! What's the score right now?"

"40-10. Draco's team leading. Hermione, the way you've split them up is a stroke of genius!"

"Thanks! It was out of necessity, really, since we don't have the required seven per side."

" _Salaud! Casse-toi!_ Deestroy 'im, _mon loup_!"

"Uh-oh! Fleur's starting with the French already!"

"That was a rather nasty move by George. How did Molly ever keep them all in check?"

"You've clearly never been on the receiving end of one of my mum's tantrums, Susan."

"I sometimes wonder if this legendary tyrant I keep hearing about ever existed, Ginny. Then again, I suppose grandchildren do tend to mellow the folks down."

"Make sure yours is a girl, Susan. I guarantee she'll be all smiles."

"It _is_ a girl, but don't tell Ron. He's adamant it's a boy."

"He was always good at denial. Do you think we should even bother releasing the Snitch, 'Mione?"

"Are you worried that I won't babysit James if Harry gets it, Gin?"

"Haha! _No!_ Remember how Draco caught it last time and Harry sulked? I sent him over to Ron for babysitting while Susan and I went shopping. If Draco sulks, just send him to his mum. Oh, _FOUL_!"

"Oh bother! And the fighting begins!"

"Ouch! That was a nasty one! Wait, did Cormac just punch his team captain?"

"Cormac and Draco have been rivals since they were kids. The bickering between Harry and Draco is nothing by comparison."

"Cormac says you chose Draco over him, Pansy, and that's how it all started. But I've seen the pictures, and I think he hated that Draco was always a bit taller."

"Probably. Although Cormac certainly made up for any deficits in the bulk department. Learning to fix a broken nose was one of the first spells Draco mastered."

"Oh, look! They're calling a time-out! You know, in spite of his pompousness, Justin really does live up to his name. Too bad about the injury—bet he'd love to be playing."

"It's never a good idea to dispute the law with a Slytherin, especially in court. Especially in court with Zabini."

"They fought in court, Alicia? Aren't they supposed to surrender their wands at the door?"

"They fought at the bar after the judge threw the case out of court. I mean, really, who cares if a misplaced comma results in two less cases of Firewhisky being imported from Ireland every month?"

"Zabini cares because he has shares in the company that imports from Ireland. It's not common knowledge, of course—conflict of interest."

"That explains it. Oh, they're playing again!"

"Is it me or are they playing even rougher?"

"It will be dinnertime in an hour or so. I think they're starting to get hungry and want to just get it over with."

"Overgrown stomachs on legs. Seems it's not just the Weasley boys."

"Merlin, no! Even Neville starts getting cranky if dinner is late."

"We'd all better start the de-conditioning now before all the children start picking up that bad habit."

"Too late for mine!"

"Well, the books do say that putting them on a fixed schedule is good for them. Besides, we always had regular mealtimes at Hogwarts."

"What's going on now? Is that considered a goal or a save? Wait, they did it again!"

"Is Justin insane to go look for the rule book while Draco and Harry argue?"

"Well, I've certainly never heard both versions of 'Weasley is Our King' sung simultaneously."

"Looks like you should keep Ron away from 'Weazies' for the next few days, Susan."

"Uh-oh, looks like Justin's discounting both goals. Hermione, you'd better release the Snitch before they really come to blows."

"I was actually going to suggest the same thing! Never mind the boys, this pregnant mama's getting hungry as well."

"Did we ever decide where we're going for dinner?"

"Oh gosh, we didn't! Can we even find a restaurant to accommodate all of us at this hour?"

"Don't worry, ladies. I ordered catering to be brought to Gin and Harry's in an hour. If the boys don't drag the game out, we'll even have time to pop home and freshen up first."

"Bless you, Hermione, you really do think of everything!"

In the end, Harry caught the Snitch, but the game was a draw, points-wise. Gathering their things, Hermione, Ginny, Susan, Luna, Pansy, Padma, Angelina, Alicia, and Fleur all went toward the field to collect the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, what's said is more important than who said what, so readers can assign the non-specified as they please. ;) you should realize that a group of women don't just hold one conversation. i only focussed on the ones hermione was involved in. so, don't think that fleur was quiet the whole time. ;) i don't speak french, so if fleur doesn't say what i think she does, let me know—there are very few online resources; i wonder why. :P


	42. Boon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is feeling guilty.

Hermione sighed. The pile in her inbox was so high. And it just kept piling up, threatening to touch the ceiling. _I suppose I should be thankful that the ceiling doesn't compare to the ones at the Manor_ , she thought wryly, _else I could literally become buried in my work when it topples over._ It was already her second week back, but she had yet to find her motivation. She had always looked forward to coming to work, and she thought she'd been more than ready last month, when cabin fever had set in. Now, all she could focus on was the expression on her twins' faces when she dropped them off at the childcare centre. The first few days, they had looked so confused, so forlorn that she was almost tempted to grab them and bring them home. This week, though, they had finally acknowledged the new routine, wearing expressions of resignation on their little faces when she kissed them, promising to come feed them at lunch. Her heart had broken even more.

Was she being selfish? Did her need for a career really outweigh the needs of her children? But thinking of the frenzied state of her mind during that last week of maternity leave, she knew that she would be miserable and make a horrible stay-at-home mother. She knew that her career-oriented mindset had been inherited from her own mum. She had been too young to fully understand the concept of abandonment when her mum had dropped her off at the daycare, so when her mum had very kindly offered to take early retirement to mind Loks and Em, Hermione knew it was unfair to make such an imposition. But what alternatives were there? She was already lucky to have a Head who had not only understood but insisted that she take an extra half-year to be with her children. She had to refuse, on principle, Narcissa's offer of a house-elf, so, beyond the occasional sleepover, that was also a dead end. She sighed again.

The clock on her desk chimed, and she rushed to grab the baby bag.

"Here's Mummy, at last! And not a moment too soon—we were getting hungry, weren't we?"

Hermione kissed the smirk off Draco's face and had the food containers readied before settling Loks on her lap. With their bellies filled, the twins babbled happily to one another. Hermione smiled for the first time.

"I was just chatting with Molly, and I think we've found a solution to your problem."

"Was she here to see Arthur? Who's minding the children? Wait, what problem?"

"The guilt you're feeling about going back to work. So, we thought that for the next three years or so, you could work a four-day week and take one day off to mind the twins. I'll re-arrange my schedule so I'll always have one day when I'm not available for consultation or research, and I'll play full-time daddy. The other three days, we'll drop the twins off at The Burrow. I've wrangled it so that I'm strictly paying the grocery bill for feeding the brood; and don't worry, the sum is enough to fill their bowls with caviar and champagne every day, if Molly were so inclined. When they both turn four and start home-schooling, maybe we could arrange to have them split their time between The Burrow, the Manor, and your parents' house, if all parties agree. I know my mother doesn't know how to handle babies full-time, but she is an excellent teacher to the—what was the term you used?—walkie-talkies?"

Hermione gave him a fierce, tearful kiss of acceptance. The twins' protests of being squashed finally separated them. "I've got a better idea. Why don't we both arrange to have a three-day week and play full-time parents the other two? We'll leave them with Molly Tuesdays through Thursdays, but with the flexibility of switching work days if something urgent comes up."

"Have long weekends every week? You have a more Slytherin mind than you give yourself credit for, My-own."

"Your inner Gryffindor isn't doing too badly, either, giving Loks and Em a future education so different from your own."

"Wait until you get home... my inner Gryffindor will ravish you until you've melted into the linen..."

The twins cried their protests again.


	43. Pluck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life with a pair of Gryfferin twins is never boring.

"The twins have done it again, My-own."

"Set one or two? And what have they done 'again' this time?"

"Set one. Chased the Crookmeister, then vanished him."

"My poor Crookshanks! No sign of him? Anywhere?"

"Checked the entire house. Floo'd the other ones. Nothing yet."

"When we find him this time, I'll have to force him to wear the tracking device. Maybe if I somehow adhere it to his ear, he won't hate it so much."

"Or you could add a Sticking Charm and make him swallow it."

"Draco! It could block his digestive tract!"

"Well, if you would stop babying him and get the Magical Creatures Healer to insert it under the skin, we wouldn't need to have this conversation."

"You can be such an insensitive prat sometimes. Wait, what on earth is that noise?"

Indeed, there seemed to be a strange rumble emitting from the fireplace. After several minutes of investigation, Hermione dislodged some of the brickwork and found her beloved pet, grumbling loudly, squeezed tightly between the bricks at the back of the hearth. He complained as he was freed, yowling his frustration, but condescended to a thorough petting by Draco as Hermione hastily went in search of Loks and Em to demand that they apologize to Crookshanks. By the time she returned with them in tow, Draco had convinced the catty orange fur-ball to submit to the tracking device.

For the next three days, Crookshanks refused to leave his bed, which place the children had been taught to respect as his sanctuary (Hermione had also, long ago, formed a barrier around it to physically deter the children from stepping foot across it, and thus far, their accidental magic had still not penetrated it.)

A tired Draco came home a week later to a commotion. Loks and Em were trying to extract their younger siblings from underneath their bed, loudly insisting that they were not going to be blamed for the mishap. After successfully coaxing Mei and Ned out, Draco held the tearful twins as they wailed that they didn't mean to do it, please don't punish them. Assuring them that he wouldn't, though warning them that they would have to make amends, Draco allowed himself to be led by his indignant elder twins to his study, where he nearly dropped the younger pair at the sight of his forlorn eagle owl, perched on his roost, completely devoid of his plumage.


	44. Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco looks about Platform 9 3/4 with a new perspective.

A hint of a smile touched Draco's lips as he looked about the platform. Things were as chaotic and noisy as it always was on this day. But he marvelled at what changes one generation had wrought. People still congregated in groups, but these were much more diverse than the last time he'd stood here. He had just greeted the Longbottom family, and he could hear the Weasley clan approaching, judging from the sudden increase in cacophony behind him. He had seen his Slytherin cronies bringing their own fledglings, and they had all greeted him and his wife with a cordiality hailing from years of friendship.

Friendship. 

He shook his head in bemusement. Yes, he was surrounded by friends, ones his eleven-year-old self could not have possibly considered. But he was glad—no, happy—to have them all. Even Potter and Weasley. How antagonistic they had been to each other back then.

"Daddy, stop day-dreaming! The train's leaving soon, and I want my kiss now." Emma was tugging impatiently at his sleeve, her usual aloof demeanour vanished by the excitement of finally starting Hogwarts. He kissed her and hugged her until she protested that he was wrinkling her outfit.

As Lachlan obediently collected his hug and embarrassing ruffling of hair, Draco's heart gave a tug; he now understood the tight hug and back-stroking he had received from his own father so many years ago. Contrary to popular belief, his father was very generous with his affections—when not in public. His was of a generation that still believed in upholding a proper sense of decorum. Hermione had, of course, scoffed at this, and over the years, he had embraced her attitude.

As he looked into his son's eyes, holding back tears from his own, he was glad to know that his boy was going to have a very different experience ahead. Both his children would not have the same burdens beholden of their surname, and even if they encountered animosity from the children of those who still considered the family "the enemy", he was sure Loks and Em would survive it, what with the support they were bound to get from their large circle of friends. There were advantages to having Potters and a large group of Weasleys on one's side.

Draco gently disentangled his wife from their children. She was fussing again, like all the mothers he had observed over the years, including his own. She had been trying hard to contain the tears, but now, as she stood in his embrace watching their waving children pull out of the station, she sobbed openly and had to hide her face in his shoulder. He whispered that the children promised to write home—that was the main reason he had bought the pair of owls. He then reminded her that they had yet to pick up the younger ones and bring them to lunch, as promised. She wiped her eyes and clasped his hand tightly as they walked toward the exit.


	45. Feat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione reminisces.

Hermione rubbed her tired eyes. It was a good thing she often worked late when things got chaotic at the office, else Draco would get suspicious of all her "overtime". But she was determined to do this. Even with the longevity of wizards relative to non-magical humans, sixty was still a milestone. Hermione smiled when she recalled Draco's indignation upon the discovery of his first wrinkle. She had teased that he should've taken better care in his younger days and not scowled so much. She hadn't had the heart to tell him that she had already seen a couple of greys on his head—not that they were that noticeable on such a pale head, and she would never have noticed if the sunlight hadn't reflected off them during their outing. She would, of course, reassure him when he did make the discovery; Lucius' hair had turned a glossy silver almost overnight during the time he had been in a comatose state, and he looked even more the formidable patriarch when he frowned. Not that the frown was ever visible when the children were around.

Hermione paused to re-check the guest list again. Everyone had responded very promptly, and, unlike the headache she'd had making the seating arrangement for Lok and Em's one hundred-day celebration—she would never have even bothered if Narcissa hadn't insisted that it was their way of making up for the fact that they'd never had a proper wedding reception—this was easy sailing. Her hard work bringing together her friends and his had paid off. There was now little need to ensure that mortal enemies were kept as far apart as possible. Even the animosity between Lucius and Arthur had given way to a truce when it became clear that the grandchildren were making friends for life. Hermione smiled as she recalled the larks the children had gotten up to at Hogwarts. What with the staggered ages and the sheer numbers, their brood had ruled the school for a span of three to four years. Thankfully, none of them had ever gotten into any serious scrapes—not that they could, what with the experienced McGonagall keeping a strict eye on them and Neville on staff as the Herbology Professor. Neville was a kind and just teacher, never showing any favouritism, but he was no push-over and was quick to spot any signs of mischief, having plenty of first-hand knowledge to draw from. Even Fred's twins had never dared to reach the heights the elder Weasley twins had built. But in spite of their inability to live up to the fame—and infamy—of their parents, the children still managed to have fun. Mei and Ned, especially, had had the best times of their lives—they'd had the advantage of a pair of older siblings paving the way and smoothing over any issues consequential to the possession of a once-contemptible surname.

Hermione sighed wistfully. Her children were all grown now and pursuing their careers of choice. Their house had never been comparable in size and stature to the Manor, but with the nest empty, it still felt too big for the two of them. And even though the children would periodically threaten them with grandchildren, she knew that it would be a few years before the pitter-patter of little feet would echo through the hallways. There was also no question of retirement in the near future. Both of them needed to stay active to stay sane. A year's sabbatical had proved that. They had travelled extensively, visiting all the places in the world they most wanted to see or re-visit, filling their travel itineraries to the brim with local tours, museum-hopping, bookstore-searching, and endless walks to familiarize themselves with the layout of every city or town. But they'd missed their jobs, missed the quiet, steady routine they had created. And so, they were still working and would continue working for as long as possible. They agreed to cut back on their duties, but the nature of their demanding jobs still required the occasional burning of the midnight oil.

Mercury arrived with a note asking when she would be home. She replied that it would depend on what was on the dinner menu. The sight of Draco messing about the kitchen still made her smile after all these years. He may have grown up with house-elves to cater to his every need, but his innate curiosity and hands-on approach had made him the more enthusiastic and, consequently, the better chef of the two. And having such a privileged childhood had honed his taste buds and sense of aesthetics. The only area where he failed to beat her was in the how-to-get-the-children-to-eat-their-vegetables department, for he abhorred them as well; she had had to strain her creativity to its limits finding ways to hide the despised foods into the plain thoroughfare that she preferred cooking so that even he wouldn’t suspect. Her mother had always been a health nut and being a dentist only reinforced her determination to ensure her only daughter grew up eating a balanced diet. The desserts at Hogwarts had been a fantasy come true for the young witch, but after indulging one-too-many times, she had learned that moderation was key. And so, her own children were never denied any foods they wanted to try; she’d used illness-from-gluttony as a suitable punishment to teach moderation, but she’d ensured that they did get all the proper nutrients their growing minds needed at the same time.

Hermione looked through her to-do list again. The remainder were minor, final details that would only take a few owls to complete, so she decided to leave them for the morrow. Mercury had returned with a mouth-watering, itemized list. It would be a crime to let such a wonderful meal go cold.


	46. Acquittal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione can't stay mad at Draco for very long.

He was late.

She knew that he must've forgotten the time while working on his new project. She did that all the time. But, she always Owl'd. And she always proposed something he could do in the meantime so that he wasn't twiddling his thumbs waiting, like she was doing. She really shouldn't feel as irked as she was because they both had the same work ethic. Still, she had been planning tonight for weeks now, had had to reschedule three times because of last-minute, work-related issues. She wondered briefly if he would turn into one of those husbands who forgot birthdays and anniversaries, then chided herself at her pettiness. She never made a big deal about those—nor Valentine's Day, for that matter—so it wouldn't've bothered her. But this was different. This was—

She was interrupted by the arrival of a battered-looking Ron, who told her that Draco was in St. Mungo's with serious though nonlife-threatening injuries. One of the Auror department's undercover contacts, whom they had given up for lost, had suddenly made contact and informed that he had finally found another hideout where the Snatchers kept their prisoners, and there was some evidence that could potentially be used as evidence. They had asked Draco to accompany them, in case there were any traps that required the Dark Mark to neutralize their effects. That had proved to be the case, the hex being triggered accidentally by one of the Aurors-in-training. Draco was the last to escape the house, for he was determined to retrieve something that would prevent the mission from being a complete waste. Ron congratulated Hermione on being a positive influence on him, though she was hardly in the mood to appreciate it.

Draco was sitting up in bed when she arrived, one eye turning black, an arm in a sling, and polka-dot patches of bandages covering his ointment-treated burns. He looked at her sheepishly. "I'm sorry I missed our dinner again."

"Draco, I know you're trying very hard to atone, but must you really take these risks? You know, you don't have to prove yourself all the time."

"Well, I didn't have time to Owl you about postponing dinner, so I had to find some sort of legitimate reason. Ow! Don't I deserve hugs and kisses for what I went through? Why do you always reserve your bleeding-heart pity for everyone else?"

"Because you don't like being pitied, remember? I'm hitting you because I care."

"Hmph! Are you sure it's not to get back at me for missing dinner? Incidentally, what were we celebrating anyway? You never said."

"Have you forgotten what happened a year ago?"

"Of course I remember. I was finally freed from the prison that was my parent's house and given back my wand... oh. That's cause for celebration?"

"Of course it is! It's the first time we could truly sit down and make plans for our future. Or is that not what you want? You know, we've made no definite promises, so if you don't think we have a future, now is the time to— _mmph_. Stop that! Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's rude to interrupt— _mmmph_... Quit stalling and answer me: are we— _mmmph_... Draco— _mmmph_..."

When he was convinced she would not convene her inane speech, Draco slackened his hold and grasped her shoulders. In as few and concise words as possible, he assured her that he intended on waking up next to her for the rest of his life, but as they had agreed to wait a few more years before getting married, he would settle for kissing her as often as necessary. When asked to define "necessary", he replied, "Whenever I need peace of mind," which earned him another punch. He hugged her to him and kissed her until she was breathless, mentally noting that this would be the best tactic to use henceforth to keep her pliant.


End file.
